


Darkened Family

by kj_feybarn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: But it might end up being better for the Galaxy at large, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Maybe - Freeform, Minor Obi-Wan Kenobi/Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan Kenobi has a father, Sheev Palpatine is Obi-Wan's father, This may not end well for Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 17:56:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj_feybarn/pseuds/kj_feybarn
Summary: Sheev Palpatine is going to take over the Galaxy, but it's a long, and at times boring, process.Thankfully turning the Chosen One and his Master to the dark side is an enjoyable side hobby.Because he will turn them. He's not settling for an Empire anymore, he's going to have a dynasty.





	1. The Dratted Padawan

Sheev was seething even as he stood somberly amid the Jedi. How dare a padawan kill his apprentice. After all of the time and effort Sheev had put into training Maul, and he had been taken out by a pathetic padawan. The situation had him so incensed he couldn’t even find it in himself to be delighted at the Jedi Master’s death. Even the fear he’d hoped to ignite in the Jedi Council at the reemergence of the Sith had been circumvented. Why would they be afraid of the Sith when a mere padawan could defeat one?

Not so long ago there had been three Sith, and now there was just him. He had gotten rid of his own Master just before he had been made Chancellor, after all he had an apprentice of his own, one that was easy to lead along where he wanted him, one unlikely to follow in the Sith’s path of betrayal for quite some time, he had no desire for his own Master to loom over him, trying to take his well-earned power.  
  
He would have to accelerate his plans for Master Dooku, the man was on the edge of falling, all it would take was a single push. He wondered if a dead former padawan would be that final step, perhaps despite his failure his dead apprentice had managed to give him the key to quickly replacing him. It was the least the pathetic Zabrak could do.

He glanced over at the small blonde boy standing next to the dratted padawan that had, by some stroke of luck, managed to kill Maul. It was a pity the Jedi had found the boy first. He was incredibly powerful, almost blindingly bright in the force, but even the bright light couldn’t hide the pockets of fear and anger that he could see in the child. It would have been delightful to mold the boy piece by piece, to fuel his anger and his fear until he was an unstoppable force for him to move as he wanted. The boy had the potential to be a marvelous apprentice.

He felt his anger push at his control as the dratted padawan knelt down beside the boy, promising to train him, promising the boy that he’d become a Jedi. To see that potential, wasted in the Jedi Order.

But he’d allow it. Let the Jedi take the boy, he was in the position now to reach out, after all the boy had been instrumental in the saving of his home planet, it was only right that he show his gratitude, the boy was not completely lost to him, he could still cultivate the pockets of fear and anger. It would be slower than he’d like, but the Sith Plan had been in work for hundreds of years, and he had to start preparing the galaxy for war, so it wasn’t as though he was in any great hurry. He could afford to take his time in twisting the boy towards his purposes.

Perhaps it was even best this way, a padawan who was knighted due to circumstance and chance, training such a powerful boy, it was almost laughable. Only the Jedi would be so foolish to allow someone so ill-prepared to train someone so obviously powerful.  
  
He was grateful when slowly the rest of the Naboo began to drift away from the burning Jedi Master, leaving the Jedi to mourn their fallen member in peace. There were things to do while still here on Naboo, while there would be fewer eyes on his movements. It was the only downside to his new position as Chancellor, there would constantly be eyes on him. His facade would not be allowed to slip for even a moment.

He made to move past where the Padawan and the boy were standing just as the Padawan took a step backward. They nearly collided and the Jedi jerked forward, and turned, “Pardon me, I apologize, I’m not all together right now I’m afraid.”

For a split second Sheev felt himself freeze. The accent was all wrong, but the tone, the face all echoed of something vaguely familiar. And there was something about his force presence... something very strange. He blinked and let it pass, “No harm done, my friend. Again, I am sorry for your loss. Naboo will never forget what it owes you.”

The padawan nodded, “Your words are kind.” The padawan turned towards the boy, one hand reaching out tentatively towards his shoulder as though not sure if his touch was welcome, “Are you ready to go in Anakin?”

The boy looked up at him, eyes wide, “Did you say goodbye?”

Sheev watched, feeling amused, though his face stayed concerned, as the padawan flinched as though the words had physically hurt him. “Yes.” Even the boy could hear the lie in the Padawan’s voice, but neither of them said anything to counter it. All the better, in Sheev’s opinion, let the padawan drown in grief.

Sheev laid a hand on the younger boy’s other shoulder, “Why don’t I escort the two of you back to the palace, I believe the Queen said she had rooms made available for all of you.”

The padawan hesitated, clearly wanting to cut short their interaction. “You needn’t worry yourself on our account, Chancellor.”  
  
Sheev felt a thrill at the newly-won title, smiling an almost genuine smile at the two boys, “Oh, no, it wouldn’t be trouble at all.”

The padawan hesitated again but finally nodded, and Sheev led the two boys back to the palace, keeping his hand on the boy’s shoulder, keeping it warm and comforting, grandfatherly. He kept a quiet conversation going, for the most part ignoring the padawan. It was the boy that was important and it was never too early to start gaining the boy’s trust.

 

He smiled out of the window of his newly earned offices into the dark of Coruscant. He was grateful to be off of Naboo, the place was too peaceful by far, and he greatly preferred the chaos and greed of Coruscant. Particularly now that it was his seat of power. He took another moment to look out on the City Planet before turning back to his desk, reaching for the data pad that contained the information that he had requested.

It was so useful for the Jedi to be under control of the Senate, and by extension under his control, not only for the Sith Plan, but just for the smaller tasks, like looking over the Jedi’s files.

He opened the file on the Padawan, Knight now, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man who, intentionally or not, had set himself up as Sheev’s direct opposition in regards to mentoring the boy who would become his apprentice. Sheev almost regretted that he had such a lack luster opponent. It would have been an intriguing side hobby if the Knight was actually a worthwhile opponent.

He pursed his lips as he read through it, the boy was skilled enough with the lightsaber, although not so skilled that he should have been capable of beating Maul. He appeared to be reasonably skilled in diplomacy, and according to the mission files, he and his dead Master had been largely successful in their mission, if occasionally unorthodox. He raised an eyebrow when he came across one of the pairs early missions to Melida/Daan. So the Padawan had left the order? Pity he’d come back, it would have been so easy for him to have died there on a warring planet with no back up. Perhaps a note for some future date, if he felt the need to get rid of him.

He glanced through the rest of the information quickly, he had discovered what he’d already thought, the boy was average at best, and quite unlikely to pose much of a problem for him. Hopefully he would at least be capable of teaching Anakin enough that the boy would be useful to Sheev without Sheev having to devote time to that side of training.

His eyes caught on something, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what it was that had caught his attention. And then he focused on Knight Kenobi’s birth mother. Ora-Lan Natobi of Stewjon.

He had known her. Ora-Lan Natobi, had known her quite intimately in fact, over two decades ago, before he had become a senator, while his Master had been training him, he had spent several months on Stewjon, he had been subtly creating unrest, Stewjon had broken into a Civil War not even a year after he’d left. It had been a resounding success in his training. He had been almost fond of her, the girl had been intelligent, devious, if somewhat lacking in ambition.

Kenobi. Last names on Stewjon were the mixtures of the last names of both Father and Mother. Ken, if he remembered Stewjonian terminology correctly, meant without, indicating that while he’d taken the obi from his mother he was without a father to give him their name.

He glanced at the birth date and felt his blood run cold.

 

“Chancellor.” The two figures bowed, one gracefully, and the other with the awkwardness of youth.

Sheev smiled pleasantly, “Oh, no need for such formalities, do come in.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi sent him a small, perfectly polite smile. “It was very kind of you to invite us for tea. I imagine you are quite a busy man, now that you’ve been elected Chancellor.”

Sheev waved his hand to indicate it was nothing, “Oh, nonsense, I know that the Queen and the Naboo thanked you for what you did, but I felt I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t do something to personally thank the two of you.”

The boy, Anakin Skywalker, beamed at him, “Thank you, Chancellor!”

Sheev quickly poured them some tea, placing it in front of both boys, and sliding a plate full of small treats in between them.

“Tell me, Anakin, how do you like being a Jedi so far?”

Skywalker beamed, “Master Obi-Wan is teaching me how to use a lightsaber!” He frowned, “Except it’s not a real one, it’s just a training saber. And I have to take lots of classes and tests and there’s a lot of homework.”

Kenobi coughed, “I, for one, am very grateful that all you’ve had is a training saber, given that you almost chopped your own head off the first time you held it.”

Skywalker smiled sheepishly. “That’s true. But I’m much better now!”

“Yes, you’ve gone from losing your head to only losing a limb or two.”

Sheev chortled genially, “Oh dear, I suppose training with a lightsaber takes time. But I’m sure you’ll pick it up quickly. You seem to be very talented.”

Skywalker beamed again and Kenobi nodded.

He continued asking questions, Skywalker was energetic and enthusiastic and eager to answer them all, and Kenobi was willing enough to add to Skywalker’s ramblings, but rarely answered first, and never said much in the way of his own opinion, every word obviously chosen with care to reveal the least amount possible. It was ironic, that the former slave boy was more comfortable in his office than the trained Jedi Knight. But then Skywalker seemed to have decided that he was trustworthy while Kenobi seemed to find him suspect. Which was somewhat annoying, even if Sheev knew the Jedi was right to be suspicious.

Sheev reached out to refill Kenobi’s empty cup, knocking it over and onto the floor. He heard the delicate cup shatter as it hit the ground. He jumped to his feet moving quickly to circle his desk, “Oh dear!” Kenobi had also jumped up, but had quickly dropped to his knees, carefully collecting the larger shards. He knelt down next to the Knight, making sure to bump into him just as the Knight grabbed a particularly large and sharp shard.

Kenobi made a small sound and glanced at where his finger was now bleeding. For a brief second they both stared at the bleeding finger before Sheev quickly grabbed the hand. “Oh dear, that’s my fault. Here, allow me.” He grabbed a clean napkin from the tray and began dabbing at the blood. For a second, Kenobi seemed completely taken aback by the action before he gently removed his hand from Sheev’s own.

“It’s fine, it’s hardly anything. You needn’t bother yourself with it.”

Sheev sighed, pocketing the napkin. “Are you certain?”

Kenobi smiled, “Quite, Anakin does me more harm with his training saber on a daily basis.”

Skywalker made a protesting noise from where he was carefully picking up teacup shards. “I do not.” The moment Sheev moved back an inch the boy dropped his shards and grabbed his Master’s hand examining it carefully.

Kenobi sent him a small smile, “That was a compliment, my dear padawan. And I assure you, I’m fine.”

Skywalker’s face scrunched and then he grinned. “You're right, that was a compliment, wasn’t it!” He let go of his Master’s hand, obviously having decided that his Master was right and he was fine. Sheev noted the byplay with interest, the two had obviously very quickly become attached to one another, and the padawan was strangely protective of his Master.

They quickly finished picking up the last of the large shards. “I’ll have a cleaning droid come in and get the rest. It was fortunate there was no tea in there.”

Kenobi nodded, “Quite.” He paused, “However, I do believe it’s time for Anakin and I to be off. We have a great deal more to do today, and I am sure that you are equally busy. Thank you again for inviting us for tea.”

“Perhaps we can do so again.”

Kenobi hesitated, “We would hate to be a bother, we understand just how busy you must be.”

“I’m sure I’ll never be too busy for the two of you.”

Kenobi didn’t answer, just gave another small bow, resting a hand on Skywalker’s shoulder and leading him out after a final round of farewells.

Sheev waited until they had made their way out before calling two droids to his office.

The first droid got to work immediately on cleaning the rest of the teacup shards from the floor and Sheev pulled the bloodied napkin out of his pocket handing it to the second droid. “I need an analysis on the blood.”

“Of course, sir.” The droid whirred quietly while Sheev waited impatiently, it was a beeping. “I’ve got your analysis, sir.” Sheev glanced at the results, nothing too strange, a decent midi-chlorian count, not too low, not exceptionally high, but still somewhat powerful, no sicknesses, healthy blood cells.

He grabbed one of the large shards of broken teacup he had sitting on the desk and pricked himself. He dropped the blood into the droid’s analyzer. “Compare the two blood samples.”

“One moment, sir.” The droid whirred again and Sheev waited impatiently. Finally it beeped, “The blood indicates a close genetic relationship between the two blood samples, sir.”

Sheev was quiet for a long moment, internalizing that information. “I see. Thank you.” He gestured for the droid to come closer, and turned it off, quickly hacking into the memory drive and erasing the last two analyses.

He turned the droid back on and sent it on it’s way.

That very first meeting he’d felt as though there was something familiar about the boy.

And ever since he had seen the boy’s mother’s name in his files. The year of his birth had matched, and the boy was a red-head just as he’d once been, he was force sensitive, while he was quite sure that Ora-Lan hadn’t been, and while one didn’t have to have a force sensitive parent to be force sensitive oneself, it was common that someone who did have a force sensitive parent would also be force sensitive.

No, he had suspected, but now he knew, and that was a different matter altogether.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, was his son.

 

It had taken time to decide what to do with this information. His Master would have told him to disregard it. What did it matter if he had a son? For all the foolishness of the Jedi, the Sith could appreciate the way they preached no attachment. Attachment could blind you, could lead you to making exceptions and mistakes. And family, flesh and blood ties, those had a strange way of very easily becoming attachments.

It should be easy, yes, he had a son, but that son was a Jedi, and his hatred for the Jedi should have easily overpowered any half-baked sentiment. But at the same time, the boy was his flesh and blood, something that inadvertently or not, he had a hand in creating. The boy was his.

His son was despairingly average. Average midi-cholrian count. Average skill set. Average power. He was hardly worth the effort.  
  
But then wasn’t that what he strived to appear to be? An average senator from an average planet? To not rock the boat? To appear harmless?  
  
A master and an apprentice had faced off against Maul and yet it had been his son who had killed the Sith Apprentice. Where a Master had failed the Apprentice had overcome. It was his son that had killed Maul, and while his apprentice’s death still irked him, he found it was much easier for him to appreciate the skill that had taken when it was no longer some random Jedi, but his own son.

Perhaps it would be best to have him killed. His Master would have suggested, perhaps even ordered, it. He could not afford distractions, and the knowledge that the boy was his son had become a distraction that he neither needed nor wanted.

The idea of a galaxy controlled by the Sith had always been his goal, with him as the Master, and an apprentice that he could control to be his enforcer.

But if the galaxy were run by him and his Sith son? A son who would listen to his father? It would create a lineage and a dynasty, not just the Sith Rule, but the Rule of his own lineage, something that could last for ages rather than the span of his own life, however long he could prolong it? It was appealing, very appealing.

But his son wasn’t a Sith. He was a Jedi. 

He opened the drawer where he kept the datapad with the boy’s file on it. His eyes caught on the mission to Melida/Daan once again.  
  
A Jedi who had already left the order once.

A Jedi who had only just lost his Master.

A Jedi who had taken on a stressful role, without the support of the council or his Jedi lineage.

A Jedi who had an obvious tendency towards attachment.

He sat in his seat and stared at the two empty chairs where Kenobi and Skywalker had sat only a few days ago. One his son, the other an incredibly powerful force user.

The two were already obviously attached to each other, it would be simple enough to encourage that attachment to grow, particularly that of the padawan to his Master.

His Master had always preached the rule of Two. Although he was sure that the man had known about Maul. Had known and helped him to begin cultivating Dooku.

He could take Dooku now, the man was already falling, and so very eager and ready to blame the Jedi and the Republic for the death of his former Padawan, even the knowledge that it was the Sith who had killed the Jedi hadn’t stemmed Dooku’s disdain for the Council that had ordered his former padawan there.

And he could cultivate both Kenobi and Skywalker. He could have them both. It was foolish to limit himself.

His son and the supposed Chosen One.

The Master, His Legacy, and Their Enforcer.


	2. Of Diners and Chess Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan's mission went perfectly (oh, who are we kidding, that man has never had a mission go right in his life) and so of course he returns to the temple refreshed and energized (read blaster-singed and tired). 
> 
> Of course, everyone in the temple is treating Anakin like the angel he is (because the Jedi are all well-adjusted here, and would never take their suspicions out on a child, not at all...) and because Anakin has been so well-behaved (this is actually true, I know, it surprised me too) Obi-Wan decides to take him out to Dex's. 
> 
> While there Obi-Wan does nothing that could be considered foolish (who are we kidding?), before they depart to go pay a visit to the unassuming and non-duplicitous Chancellor who would never have an ulterior motive for anything (all of this is a lie, but you knew that already).
> 
> So pretty par for the course, all told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Hello!
> 
> Life is going as well as can be expected. My older brother flew in this weekend and took me to play disc golf. I am absolutely terrible, and by absolutely terrible I mean ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE. But it was fun, and he was super patient with me as he tried to help me figure out how to throw the discs better... I also accidentally hit him... so... whoops?
> 
> My younger brother and his wife disowned me and the rest of the family, so... that was awful. I spent a few days feeling really down. Still not sure what I did wrong or why he felt the need to cut contact so completely, but I'm just trying to remember that it's his decision, and while it may hurt, I need to respect his need for distance.
> 
> My older sister's husband got a job... FINALLY. So she's moving across the country, very happy for her and her family.
> 
> Not that any of you care about what's happening with my siblings, but all i do is work and write and occasionally sleep... and these are the things that have most played a part in how much and what sort of writing I get done. I actually have chapter four for this story mostly written, mostly because it's somewhat darker (or at least, for me, somewhat darker, which isn't saying a whole lot...)
> 
> I'm sorry I'm rambling again, you should all just ignore my beginning notes.
> 
> Anyways, Dex makes an appearance, Obi-Wan is lonely and trying to pretend that he isn't, Quinlan makes the briefest of cameos, and Anakin gets a sugar high.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

Obi-Wan sighed as he read through the messages on his comlink. There was one from Garen who wanted to find a time to spar while they were both in the temple, and another from Bant reminding him that if he’d been injured on his last mission he should report to the Halls of Healing, which wasn’t going to happen, any injuries he’d acquired were hardly life threatening. Quinlan had also sent a message talking about getting a drink, which would result in both of them getting just drunk enough to do things that they really probably shouldn’t, especially not since they both now had padawans for whom they were supposed to present a good example. 

And then there was the message from the Chancellor. The Chancellor was wondering if he’d like to have tea over a game of chess.

It was frustratingly tempting. It was always tempting, and he hated that. He had few friends, and those he did have were off on missions as recently made solo Knights constantly, he’d already responded to Garen to find that the man had already received a new mission and their spar was going to have to wait, and despite both of their best efforts, it always seemed to end that way. Not to mention the fact that the council was still watching him and Anakin with a careful, scrutinizing eye, that while understandable, was still disheartening. Other than Anakin, he found that he lacked much needed interaction with others, and he did not enjoy the, at times, isolated feeling the council’s suspicion left him with.

He wasn’t sure why the Chancellor was still reaching out to him, it had been over a year since the Naboo blockade and the Chancellor had extended the offer countless times, while Obi-Wan had come up with countless reasons to say no. Anakin didn’t understand his hesitance, in fact, Anakin seemed to adore spending time with the Chancellor, and the few times that Obi-Wan had met with the Chancellor had been when he had picking up or dropping off Anakin. But the Chancellor was persistent. In theory it was quite an admirable quality. In practice it was very wearing.

“Master Obi-Wan!” Obi-Wan glanced up as Anakin came crashing through the door to their apartments. “You’re back!”

“And you’re greasy.” There was grease all over his clothes, and his hair was sticking up in strange places where the grease was smeared in it.

Anakin bowed his head sheepishly, “Yeah, I was… er…”

“Was it ships or droids this time?”

Anakin bit his lip, “Droids?” He sounded tentative as though worried he’d made a mistake. Obi-Wan wondered which Master or Knight had berated Anakin recently.

He certainly hadn’t meant for it to sound as though he disapproved, he was grateful that the ten year old had something that he was good at and enjoyed, but he knew that most of the other Jedi frowned on the boy’s, sometimes overwhelming, love of mechanics, he tried to ease the tension from his voice, “Were you having fun?”

Anakin nodded, and Obi-Wan slid a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad. But how about you get cleaned up and then the two of us can go to Dex’s and you can tell me about how classes are going and what exactly you’re doing with the droid you’re working on.”

Anakin beamed, “Wizard! Can I get the Dex Special?”

Obi-Wan hesitated, the Dex Special came with an extra large shake that would leave Anakin buzzing around for ages, but then he shrugged, from what the council had indicated, or rather from their lack of complaints during his mission report, Anakin had been on his best behavior while he was gone, so the boy probably deserved it given how often Anakin had gotten in trouble the last time he’d been sent on a mission. “I suppose.”

Anakin whooped again and took off for the fresher.

Obi-Wan laughed quietly to himself, turning back to the message from the Chancellor, he’d tell the man that he had just gotten back from another mission and that he would likely be swamped with filling out his reports in triplicate and making sure that Anakin was caught up in all of his classes.

Anakin’s head popped out of the fresher door. “After we go to Dex’s can we stop by the Chancellor? He seemed really stressed when I last visited and I bet he could use a break.”

“Us stopping by may cause him even more stress, Anakin, he probably has a great deal of things that need his attention and doesn’t need a distraction.”

Anakin shook his head, “He told me that he likes it when I come by, he says that it’s refreshing.”

Obi-Wan hesitated, “I really don’t think…”

“Please, Master Obi-Wan?”

He didn’t really want to, but he knew that Anakin was still struggling to make friends in the Order, despite how hard Obi-Wan had tried to help him assimilate, and if the Chancellor truly helped Anakin feel welcome than Obi-Wan didn’t want to outright discourage it, especially given the Council’s tacit approval, and right now he still felt it was best to heed the council’s direction, even if he personally didn’t approve, at least in something as harmless as this. Some of their more critical suggestions, and disparagements, he was happy to conveniently misunderstand. “How about I send a message to see if he has time for us this afternoon?” He could hope that today was a particularly busy day for the Chancellor, but given his earlier invitation he doubted it. Reluctantly he erased the message he’d been composing and sent a query about whether today would be a good time for him and Anakin to drop by for a short time.

He took the opportunity to quickly change into a new robe and tunic, it was probably best not to go out into the general public with his slightly blaster seared outfit, really,his tunics would have survived the blaster fight just fine if people had just listened to him and hidden, rather than standing out in the open for anyone to shoot down, forcing Obi-Wan to perform far riskier stunts than he would have preferred in order to keep them all alive. How hard was it to duck behind a conveniently placed table?

He grimaced slightly when he came back out to find that the Chancellor had already responded in the affirmative for their visit in the afternoon. He sighed, it was a shame that the Senate didn’t have a session this afternoon, that would have been highly convenient. It figured that the Senate couldn’t manage to actually do anything when he would like them to.

He shook his head, he was being ridiculous. It wasn’t as though there was anything wrong with visiting with the Chancellor, and he supposed it made sense that the Chancellor enjoyed Anakin’s company and found it refreshing. The boy was energetic and kind, and wasn’t that similar to how Master Yoda spent time in the creche? To help him feel relaxed and re-energized? He was letting his distrust of politicians make him see shadows.

Or he was right and it was all some political scheme and the Chancellor was trying to use his Padawan for his own nefarious purposes. He gritted his teeth, the Chancellor had been clever in opening the door for meeting with Anakin, he’d gone to Master Windu the first time, asking to borrow the Jedi who had saved his home planet, it had given Obi-Wan no grounds to refuse Anakin visiting the man, even if the situation had made him uncomfortable.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, so far he hadn’t actually sensed anything nefarious, but he also couldn’t help but feel that there was something off about the way the Chancellor kept extending him invitations.

Or he was paranoid.

Anakin tripping on his way out of the fresher distracted him from his gloomy thoughts and he grinned at his flailing padawan.

“Ready for Dex’s?”

“Yes!”

Time with the friendly Besalisk, the chance to eat some good food, and the opportunity to hear about what his padawan had been up to while he was away was just what he would need to get through tea with the Chancellor.

 

Dex’s was, as he’d suspected it would be, an excellent decision. Dex had greeted him with his usual booming yell and a tight hug. Anakin managed to avoid the hug, purely because Dex was just as likely to break him as hug him.

The Besalisk joined them for the first few minutes for his usual chat and Anakin listened eagerly as Dex told one of his stories from his days as a prospector. Obi-Wan couldn’t say if it was completely true or not, if anyone else was telling the story Obi-Wan would assume most of it to be fabricated, but with Dex it was quite possible that he had actually done, and survived, every single crazy thing he said he did.

Dex lumbered off to get their orders and Anakin watched him go with awe in his eyes. “You have the best friends.”

Obi-Wan laughed, “Dex is quite the character. But whatever you do, don’t ask him how we met.”

Anakin’s eyes widened, curiosity evident in them, “How did you meet?”

Obi-Wan just shook his head, “That is a secret I intend to carry to my grave.” He paused, “Or at least until your Knighthood.”

Anakin pouted. “That’s not fair.”

Obi-Wan just raised an eyebrow at him, “A little bit of waiting won’t hurt you. And I do think I like the idea of making you wait in suspense for this particular story.”

Anakin’s pout got more pronounced, and much less real. “You’re no fun.”

Dex’s laughter interrupted their conversation, “Don’t let your Master fool you, he’s quite the troublemaker under all that seriousness. You should hear the story of how we met.”

“How’d you meet?” Anakin asked eagerly, completely ignoring Obi-Wan’s earlier instruction on the matter.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, “I had just finished telling Anakin that he’ll have to wait until he’s a Knight to hear that particular story.”

Dex nodded seriously, though there was a twinkle in his eyes. “That’s wise, we wouldn’t want young Anakin here to get ideas.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “I’ll have you know that they were all very good ideas.”

Dex grinned, “That’s one way to describe them. I’d have described them as hare-brained, but we can stick with good.”  
  
Obi-Wan didn’t grace that with a retort. Some people just didn’t recognize good ideas when they saw them. He’d kept them both alive, hadn’t he?

Dex laughed again, setting their food down. He lowered his voice so Anakin couldn’t hear. “Be careful, I’ve got a Mandalorian who just dropped into the Diner, and while I don’t think he’d actually start anything, he does hate Jedi, and it never hurts to be a bit wary.” Obi-Wan understood the warning immediately, Mandalorians in general didn’t like the Jedi, and while that had stayed true even for the majority of the New Mandalorians, it was particularly, and often violently, true of Death Watch and the group that called themselves True Mandalorians.

Obi-Wan’s eyes skimmed the Diner, there were a number of patrons there from all classes of Coruscant, his eyes stopped at a man sitting with his back to the wall, a glass of Jawa juice in from of him, a fussy baby in his arms, and a sharp, if weary, look in his eyes. Obi-Wan always made an effort not to overtly scan strangers in the Force, but even from here and without actively trying he could feel the storm brewing under the man’s skin. Either Death Watch or True Mandalorian, the man had too much restrained violence about him to be a New Mandalorian, or at least not a devout one.

He nodded to Dex. “Thank you.” He paused, “He order yet?”

“Bo brought him a Jawa juice, but other than that, no. He’ll probably be here just as long as the two of you.”

“Get the man a special and another glass of Jawa juice.” He glanced at the baby, “And a glass of warm blue milk.” He smiled, “On me of course.”

Dex gave him a scrutinizing look. “Not always a good idea to poke that Lamproid nest.”

Obi-Wan just smiled. “I’m aware.”

Dex just sighed. “Hare-brained ideas, I’m telling you.” But he moved away and Obi-Wan had no doubt that despite his doubts on the matter, Dex would go through with his request.

Obi-Wan would be the first to admit that sometimes he had a tendency of provoking individuals who didn’t like him. And he had no doubt that the Mandalorian in the corner absolutely despised him purely because he was a Jedi. But it wasn’t that, not now at least. Maybe it was because Obi-Wan had a soft spot for Mandalorians, even if the majority of them hated him and none of them quite compared to the lovely Duchess. Or maybe because under the storm that surrounded the Mandalorian in the force there was also a deep scarring hurt. Obi-Wan had never been very good at watching people hurt, and while he had learned, painfully, that more often than not there was nothing he could do, it didn’t always stop him from trying. Or maybe it was the fact that Obi-Wan had a weakness for children, and he couldn’t help himself.

He turned his attention away from the man and his baby and back to his Padawan who had already slurped down half of his shake and was scarfing his way through a Nerf burger.

Obi-Wan took a bite of his own burger and savored it, he sighed, “Dex is a wonderful individual who deserves only good things.” He took another bite, “These really shouldn’t be quite so delicious.”

Anakin nodded, his mouth full. But the happy noises he made were very much an agreement.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

Anakin shrugged and finished chewing. “Not really. Aayla invited me to study with her. I think Master Vos asked her to though.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “I doubt it, Quinlan is a good friend, and I’m sure he’s a good Master. But he often overlooks the more subtle arts of forming friendships. If Quinlan had told Aayla to approach you she would have had a very different approach. If she approached you to study, than I imagine she genuinely wants to.”

“But she’s older, and in more advanced classes. Studying with me wouldn’t actually help.” Anakin said morosely.  
  
Obi-Wan shrugged, “Maybe not, but I’ve met Aayla a few times.” And heard Quinlan rave on about how she was the perfect Padawan even before she’d become Quinlan’s padawan. “She’s a kind girl, but a little reserved. She’d likely feel more comfortable initiating a friendship using studying as a medium.”

Anakin frowned, “But you said that she wasn’t trying to be my friend.”

“No, I said that if Quinlan had told her to befriend you she would have used different methods. I didn’t say that she didn’t want to befriend you.”

Anakin turned back to his food, slurping from his shake with a frown of concentration on his face. “You think she might want to be my friend?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “I think it quite likely.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan wished his Padawan didn’t sound quite so surprised at the idea of someone wanting to become his friend, but his entrance into the temple hadn’t been the easiest, and even now, over a year later he still hadn’t quite managed to make friends.

“It wouldn’t hurt to give her a chance.” He said quietly.

Anakin nodded, not looking directly at him. “And I think I’ve figured out how to improve the cleaning droids efficiency by at least 20 percent.”

“Oh? That will be useful, since your rooms seem to be getting progressively messier.”

“Not true!” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and Anakin squirmed, “All right, so it’s a little true.”

Obi-Wan snorted, but dropped it. “I heard that you did well in the sparring matches for your lightsaber class.”

Anakin’s face morphed into a smile, “I did! Master Drallig was impressed. I lost to Padawan Kordo though.” He scrunched his nose in distaste, “He’s really big, and his four arms make it unfair.” Anakin glanced to the side where the Mandalorian was trying to soothe his child, who had grown from fussy to upset. Obi-Wan noticed several patrons starting to look annoyed at the increasingly louder wails, although all of the patrons seemed wise enough to not actually say anything. Even holding a baby and not visibly armed the man screamed danger.

Obi-Wan just smiled, “You never know who you may have to defend yourself against, it’s good practice to fight with Padawans who fight differently. And we will continue to practice together, and I’m sure you’ll find that next time you’ll do better, even if you don’t win. But you should be pleased, Master Drallig is a very difficult Master to impress.”  
  
Anakin hummed around the last of his shake. “Some day I’m going to win them all.”

“Not without practice you won’t.” He smiled, “But I believe you to be perfectly capable of it.” He noticed Anakin eying his shake and pretended not to notice, subtly moving it so the straw would be easier for Anakin to reach. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging the boy, but he figured that Anakin was already going to have a sugar rush, and a few more sips probably wouldn’t end up making much of a difference. The boy was already starting to bounce in his seat.  
  
He was momentarily distracted by a particularly loud wail from the baby in the corner.

“Can we go visit the Chancellor now?” Obi-Wan turned back to his Padawan who was trying to pretend he hadn’t just stolen more of Obi-Wan’s shake.

“I suppose if you’re finished.” He did his best to hide his distaste for the idea by finishing the rest of his shake, ignoring Anakin’s pout of having his source denied him.

They stood and Obi-Wan left enough credits to pay for their food, and the food he’d ordered for the Mandalorian earlier, ignoring Dex’s bellow from the kitchens that he better not be trying to pay.

Anakin bounced ahead of him towards the door and Obi-Wan followed him. “Udesiir, Bob’ika, gedet’ye.” The voice was deep and soft and soothing, but Obi-Wan could feel the exhaustion being carefully hidden away.

Someday Obi-Wan was probably going to die for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, hopefully it wasn’t today, where Anakin was watching and Dex would be proven right about Obi-Wan’s ideas being hare-brained.

He gestured for Anakin to wait a moment, before turning and sliding into the other side of the stall, facing the Mandalorian.

The man’s eyes landed on him, scrutinizing and calculating. Obi-Wan had no doubt that the man had determined how dangerous Obi-Wan was the moment he’d walked into the Diner, and had probably determined exactly how to kill him should it be necessary. “It’s not my place.” Obi-Wan started, “But you look like you could use five minutes to breathe.”

“You were right the first time. Not your place. Not interested.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, and made to stand, “Of course, but children are very perceptive, and yours knows you’re tired and frustrated.”

The man grunted and Obi-Wan gave him a nod as he moved to leave. He saw Dex watching him carefully and sent him a careful nod and a smile to show that everything was fine and that Obi-Wan was unlikely to be murdered any time soon.  
  
A foot caught his leg and Obi-Wan was careful not to show his surprise, the man had pursed his lips and was glancing between Dex and Obi-Wan. “How do you know Dex?”

Obi-Wan glanced from the man to Dex, there was familiarity in the way the man said his name. It made sense, Obi-Wan supposed, while he wouldn’t put it past Dex to know someone was Mandalorian with some special sixth sense, it made far more sense for Dex to have actually known the man. And probably knew the man personally hated Jedi, and didn’t just professionally hate Jedi.

No wonder the Besalisk was worried.

“We both found ourselves in a bit of trouble when I was fourteen, we helped each other out.”

The man tilted his head, eyes moving over Obi-Wan as though re-evaluating him. “I could use a few moments.” It came out reluctant and annoyed.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he completely managed to hide his surprise. The man must be far more exhausted and frustrated than Obi-Wan had assumed. Because even now he could feel that the man would probably rather kill him than anything. And Obi-Wan knew just how precious children were to Mandalorians.

The man stood carefully, the baby still crying in his arms. Obi-Wan saw a blaster on his hip, that had been hidden earlier by the table. He had no doubt it was only one of several weapons on the man.

“Two minutes.” He grunted, he placed the kid gently in Obi-Wan’s arms, his face was only a few inches away from Obi-Wan’s as he made sure the baby was being held correctly. “None of your Force nonsense. You so much as misstep and I’ll kill you.”

“Not while I’m holding your child, I hope.”

The man just grunted and Obi-Wan watched as he paced away, his whole body seemed to vibrate with extra tension and energy. Obi-Wan decided to ignore him in favor of quietly murmuring to the baby. He heard the man down his Jawa Juice, the glass landing back on the table harshly. There was another set of pacing, and he could still feel the man’s eyes on him.

The baby was quieting, at least a little, and Obi-Wan rocked gently, letting his voice soften a little more, and ignoring the fact that he was in a diner, he let himself sing quietly, a lullaby from Serenno, one he’d learned from his Master when Obi-Wan had been in the Halls of Healing, a fever from an infected wound keeping him weak and in bed. Qui-Gon had told him he’d learned it from his own Master in a similar situation. It was one of the few times that Qui-Gon had ever actually mentioned his own Master, and one of the even fewer times it had been something positive.

He tried not to think of Master Dooku, who had left the order soon after Qui-Gon’s death. Despite the fact that Obi-Wan had never known the man, he still felt personally abandoned.

He felt the Mandalorian step closer, some of the frantic energy having dispersed. Obi-Wan could still feel the storm underneath the man’s skin though, felt a little bit like the storm was trying to pull Obi-Wan in equally as much as it was trying to push Obi-Wan away. Both impulses felt equally violent, equally likely to destroy him. “Didn’t think Jedi knew how to sing.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyes away from the baby, who’s amber eyes were staring up at him, his tiny nose scrunched as though confused but not sure why. He was no longer crying.

Obi-Wan deposited the baby back into his father’s waiting arms. “Like laughing and smiling it’s utterly forbidden for a Jedi.” 

The man didn’t seem amused at the obvious sarcasm, and Obi-Wan could admit, tiniest bit of disdain, that laced Obi-Wan’s voice. But being a Jedi didn’t make him any less sentient than anyone else.

“Is his mother…”

“No mother.” The man’s voice cut him off before he could continue.

Obi-Wan blinked, then stepped back, remembering the situation. “I am sorry for your loss.”

There was an actual glint of amusement in the other man’s eyes. “No need, there was never a mother.”

It was impossible to not see the similarities between the child and the man, the same amber eyes boring into him. He found it hard to imagine a woman seeing this man and the child in his arms and not wanting to be apart of it, but then, the man seem unbothered, so perhaps it had been an agreed upon decision. Either way, it wasn’t Obi-Wan’s business.

He took another step back and glanced back to see that Anakin was still standing by the door, bouncing in place, although his eyes were focused entirely on Obi-Wan, there was a protective gleam to them and Obi-Wan was reminded that Anakin wasn’t naive, could probably see just as well as Obi-Wan that the man was dangerous. He sent him a soft smile, and Anakin relaxed the tiniest bit.

“Well, a good day to you.” He gave the man a nod, sent Dex another reassuring smile and nod. The Besalisk gave him his most put upon look but nodded back.

The man didn’t respond, quietly rocking the baby who was now playing with the man’s shirt collar, his eyes burning into Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan turned away from him and moved towards his padawan. Dex called out a goodbye as they left and Anakin sent him a big wave with a bigger smile. As they stepped out the door Anakin’s hand came up to latch onto Obi-Wan’s robe.

“He didn’t like you very much.”

Obi-Wan shrugged, “No, he didn’t.”

“Why’d you help him, then?”

Obi-Wan put his arm around his padawan’s shoulders as they made their way to the public transportation that would take them to the Senate district. “I had no conflicting duties and he looked as though he could use the help. It didn’t hurt to at least offer.”

Anakin hummed, “Okay.”

“Although, so long as you are my padawan, if anyone ever dislikes you quite as much as he disliked me, I’d prefer that you not approach them unless absolutely necessary.”

Anakin looked up at him. “You should stay away from people that dislike you too.” Then he made a funny face, “I don’t get why he disliked you though. You’re the best person I know, after my Mom anyways.”

Obi-Wan decided there was no need to go into the cultural history behind the clash between Jedi and Mandalorian’s, nor the more recent clashes, at least not at the moment. “Not everyone is going to like me. Nor will everyone like you, my very young padawan. That doesn’t mean we can’t be kind.”

“Well, everyone should.”

A speeder raced past their transport and a few moments later a CorSec speeder came racing past it and Anakin was completely distracted from their conversation as he pressed his face against the window of their transport trying to watch the chase as long as he could.

His voice grew excited as he tried to relay what was happening to Obi-Wan, his earlier energy coming back in a rush. Obi-Wan listened with a smile as the chase left Anakin’s view and the boy immediately switched to talking about pod racing and how fast pod racers could go.

He dismissed the experience at the Diner, focusing instead on his Padawan and their upcoming tea with the Chancellor.  
  
Hopefully after this the Chancellor would see that Obi-Wan was hardly worth the effort he was expending and would stop extending his friendly invitations.

 

They were ushered into the Chancellor’s office the moment they arrived. The secretary sent a special smile towards his padawan, greeting him kindly. “The Chancellor had quite a busy day today, Padawan Skywalker, I imagine he’ll be quite happy to see you.”

Anakin beamed and Obi-Wan felt a the tiniest bit guilty for assuming the worst of the Chancellor. He felt even more so when they entered the offices to see the Chancellor, he looked genuinely tired, but seemed to brighten upon seeing Anakin. “Anakin, my boy, it’s so good to see you today.” The Chancellor sent Obi-Wan his own smile, “And a special pleasure to see you, Knight Kenobi.”

“It’s good to see you as well, Chancellor.”

“Hello, Chancellor! Obi-Wan took me to Dex’s! Have you ever been there? It’s so good! They have these really big shakes that are sooo good! I even snuck some of Obi-Wan’s when he wasn’t looking.” Obi-Wan held back his snort, because if Anakin thought he’d actually successfully snuck any of that shake than he either severely underestimated Obi-Wan’s observation skills or highly overestimated his own sneakiness.

The Chancellor smiled amusedly, “I haven’t been there I’m afraid. I’ll have to endeavor to make it down.” He gestured for them to sit down, and Obi-Wan gratefully took a seat, Anakin sat down, almost shaking with energy. He almost immediately started chattering again and Obi-Wan settled back in his seat and let his Padawan and the Chancellor converse, or rather watched as the Chancellor’s smile somehow grew both wider and softer as Anakin rambled on. Part of Obi-Wan felt embarrassed at the lack of decorum, but the rest of him found the moment rather entertaining. The Chancellor of the Republic couldn’t get so much as a word in edgewise and was instead forced to just listen as the ten year old chattered on.

It was probably a highly unusual occurrence for the silver-tongued politician.

The two of them talked together for quite a while before Anakin started slowing down, he was getting very close to crashing entirely. Obi-Wan shifted, about to open his mouth and suggest that he and Anakin take their leave when the Chancellor turned towards him. “Knight Kenobi, I was hoping you’d be willing to play a game of chess with me. Anakin’s been willing to indulge me, but I’m afraid chess really isn’t his thing.”

Obi-Wan hesitated, “I’m not sure I’ll be much of a challenge, my own Master was more inclined to creating new rules as he played.” It was quite difficult to win a game when the moment you made a move your Master declared that that particular move would cost you three turns and allow the opponent to make one of your pieces a traitor. His Master had called it an exercise in handling real life scenarios. He had called it an exercise in futility.

The Chancellor smiled, “Well perhaps you would be willing to allow me to teach you?”

Obi-Wan hesitated, “I know we’ve taken up a great deal of your time already.”

Palpatine shook his head, “Oh, please don’t leave quite yet. I’ve had senators in my office all day griping and complaining and making me wonder why I ever joined politics.” And wasn’t that a sentiment Obi-Wan completely understood. Politicians. He very carefully kept his face from scrunching in disgust at the thought.

He still nearly declined anyways, but a soft snore from his padawan forced him to reconsider. Waking up Anakin was always a lengthy process.

“Well, I suppose.”

The Chancellor smiled, “Excellent.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t completely unfamiliar with Chess, it had been a part of one of his diplomacy courses, but neither would he consider himself to be particularly knowledgable. Qui-Gon had enjoyed breaking the rules and telling him to think on his feet, and his age mates hadn’t been particularly enthralled by the game, Garen would much rather be in a spaceship and Quinlan would rather be trying to beat him up in the Salle. Still he had a functioning knowledge of the rules.

The Chancellor, he could see, was very good at the game, at least to Obi-Wan’s novice eye. For the most part they played in silence, but every now and then Palpatine would stop and point out bits of strategy. Slowly Palpatine started stealing his pieces, and Obi-Wan watched them go, taking a few of the Chancellor’s own pieces as they went. He scowled slightly when the Chancellor took his queen and then his bishop. 

There was a light snore and he glanced over to see that Anakin was now curled into the chair, drooling lightly on the cushion. He smiled softly at the sight. Palpatine chuckled quietly. “I do believe that’s the stillest I’ve ever seen the boy. He’s a fountain of energy normally.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “He is.” He felt something close to sorrow at the thought. Anakin had so much energy, so much potential, and yet it was Obi-Wan that the boy was stuck with.

He turned back to the chess board, eyes moving over the pieces, but he was distracted now, that all too familiar feeling of inadequacy gnawing at him.

He missed his own Master, who would have been a far better Master for Anakin.

“It’s lucky then, that he has you as a Master.” Obi-Wan paused and looked up at the Chancellor, unable to mask the surprise from his face. The man glanced at him, but focused on the chess board again, “I have noted that there are some Jedi who would feel it best to stifle that energy, and I’m sure they have very good reasons for that, but I’ve seen that you’ve done your best to give him outlets for it, and in Anakin’s case that seems the healthier option.”

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. “You are very kind, Chancellor, but he deserves far better than me.”

The Chancellor nodded, “I’ve found that the majority of us deserve better. The Republic a better chancellor, planets better rulers, children better parents. They all deserve the best, but all either of us can give them is our own personal best.” The Chancellor gave him a small smile, “Anakin is very lucky to have you because you are doing your best, and make no mistake, he recognizes that. He thinks the world of you, you know, not a visit goes by that he doesn’t extol your many virtues. He’ll turn into a fine Jedi Knight with your guidance.”

Obi-Wan felt something in him warm. The Chancellor was right, Anakin probably did deserve better, but the boy could have Master Yoda himself and deserve better. But Obi-Wan could give him his best, and perhaps that might never be enough, but then at least Anakin would always know that he had given him everything he could, would never doubt that Obi-Wan would always do his best for him. 

“Thank you, Chancellor, the Republic is lucky to have someone as wise as you as their leader.” He gave the man a small smile, “Even if you aren’t perhaps the best that they deserve.” The moment the words left his mouth Obi-Wan flushed, that was hardly the polite thing to say to the Chancellor of the Republic.

The man laughed loudly and Anakin stirred slightly. The man covered his mouth to stifle his chortles and Anakin slowly settled again. “Why, Knight Kenobi, your frankness does you credit.”

Obi-Wan flushed further and moved his second bishop to take the other man’s knight. They continued their game in silence until the Chancellor caught Obi-Wan’s king.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t much of a challenge.”

The Chancellor shrugged, “You were better than you led me to believe.” He smiled, “And your strategy improved as you played, I imagine that you’ll become quite the contender soon enough.” He hesitated, “Perhaps we can play again sometime, practice against a live opponent would be good for both of us.” Obi-Wan hesitated as he remembered his reservations about the Chancellor, but the Chancellor continued talking as though he didn’t notice the hesitation. “I realize that you are, of course, busy as both a Knight and a Master, but I admit that it’s nice to be able to leave the politics for a short time.”

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment longer, “I enjoyed our game, it would be a pleasure to play against you again.” It was positive enough, but it wasn’t a complete commitment.

The Chancellor smiled at him. “I’ll stay in contact then.” Obi-Wan didn’t doubt it, if past experience was any indication, the Chancellor would be persistent until Obi-Wan made another visit.

Obi-Wan nodded and moved towards his sleeping padawan. The boy was still fast asleep and Obi-Wan could feel the exhaustion hanging around him. He wondered if the boy had slept while he had been gone. He wrapped the force around him, keeping him asleep as he pulled the boy out of the chair and into his arms, resting the boys head against his shoulder. He groaned slightly, the boy was growing, soon he’d be far too heavy for this sort of thing.

A hand on his back led him towards the door. “Let me get my driver to take you back to the temple.” Obi-Wan opened his mouth to argue but the Chancellor beat him to it, “You’ve got quite enough on your hands carrying Anakin without trying to get a taxi-speeder or maneuver your way through public transportation. We wouldn’t want him to wake.”  
  
That was true enough, and Anakin really was quite heavy, but Obi-Wan would really prefer to carry him then to have to wake him. The Chancellor’s suggestion was unfortunately the best one available and so Obi-Wan nodded, “Thank you, Chancellor. You are quite kind.”

“You’re quite welcome, Knight Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan made his way through the senate quickly, skirting around Senators and their aides with ease. He saw several of them send amused looks at the sight of his sleeping Padawan but he ignored them. He made it to the Senate landing pad to find a driver waiting for him, leading him towards the Chancellor’s personal speeder. He couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the idea of being driven around in the man’s personal, and fairly lavish, speeder, but the Chancellor was correct that public transportation would be trying, and he’d already had a rather long day, so he slid as smoothly as he could into the speeder and let the driver silently take them back to the temple.

The looks he received at the temple were similar to those at the Senate Building, mostly amused, with a few disappointed glances mixed in. He ignored them with the same ease he’d ignored the Senators. Master Windu passed them and gave him a nod and a pat on the shoulder. “You’re lucky he’s a heavy sleeper, Depa would wake up halfway through, and insist on walking, but she was always very grumpy after waking up.”

Obi-Wan laughed quietly, “Depa, grumpy? I can’t imagine that.”

Master Windu just shook his head, “The grumpiest padawan I’d ever seen.” The Master gave Anakin a considering look, and then gave Obi-Wan another nod, “You’ve been doing very well with him. I know he was struggling in classes before, but you’re work with him has really shown.” Obi-Wan hadn’t been aware that Anakin’s teachers had reported to the Council, nor that anyone had realized just how extensive Anakin’s lack of education had been before coming to the temple. The two of them had worked hard to get Anakin to standard reading and writing levels for his age group, were still working on it in fact.

“Thank you, Master Windu. He’s a fast learner.”

“Now if he can just learn not to set his droids loose in the Commissary.”

Obi-Wan flinched, that had happened while Obi-Wan had been on his first mission away, he had returned home to some very unhappy Masters and a sullen Padawan. “Of course, Master.”

“I’ll let you get him to your rooms.” Obi-Wan nodded a quick farewell and finished making his way quickly to his and Anakin’s rooms.

He sighed in relief as he finally slid the boy into his own bed, making his way tiredly to his own rooms. His last mission had ended well enough, but it had been a disaster from start to finish; finicky politicians, a disgruntled public, an advisor trying to usurp power, and a large group of hired mercenaries. Obi-Wan wondered what a difficult mission would turn into if this is what a supposedly simple treaty signing turned into, or maybe Obi-Wan just had strange luck. This mission, at first glance probably didn’t even need a Jedi there. It shouldn’t have resulted in Obi-Wan honestly fearing for his life, much less the success of the mission as a whole. But it didn’t matter, things had ended well enough, and that was all Obi-Wan could ask for.

But, the whole thing had left him tired, and he had worried about Anakin the whole time. This had been the fourth time that he had been sent on a mission without his padawan, and the last few times had resulted in Anakin causing a great deal of chaos, last time the boy had completely disappeared from the temple and Obi-Wan had had to find him in the lower sections of Coruscant. The boy had been terrified that he’d done it this time, that he’d angered the council so much that they would never let him back. It had taken Obi-Wan several hours to convince him to return to the temple and weeks to convince Anakin that he wouldn’t be kicked out at any moment.

So he was grateful that things had gone more smoothly this time. 

But there was still something that bothered him. He wished that he could help Anakin feel safe at the temple. That he could help the boy feel secure in his place here.

His mind turned to the past evening and the time they’d spent with the Chancellor. Anakin had seemed comfortable there, happy to talk and chatter with the Chancellor. He wondered if he should speak to the Chancellor, to see if he had any ideas to help him help Anakin, other than Obi-Wan himself, the man was one of the very few people that Anakin had really warmed to. The idea left him feeling uncomfortable and a little unsure. He didn’t like the idea of trusting a politician, and he didn’t like the idea of owing one. Yet the Chancellor had been kind to Anakin, had been kind to Obi-Wan himself. He had offered kind words and sage advice.

He shook his head, he would make no decisions tonight. He was far too tired for that. He’d think about it again in the morning.

He commed Quinlan, “Vos.” The Kiffar sounded bored.

“Aayla asleep?”

“Obi-Wan!” Quin’s voice gained a little bit of energy. “She is, yeah.”

“That offer for a drink still open.”

He could practically hear the smirk in Quin’s voice. “Oh, all the offers are still open.”

“Good. My rooms or yours?”

“Aayla’s a pretty light sleeper. I’ll leave her a note telling her where I am if she wakes up.”

“That works, Anakin sleeps like the dead.”

“I’ll bring the alcohol.” Quin’s voice was sly, and Obi-Wan had no doubt that whatever he brought with him would taste absolutely awful but would be certain to get them both drunk very quickly. Which worked well for Obi-Wan. The two of them always did seem to have fun with each other once they started getting drunk. And he could use the sort of fun that he and Quinlan liked to have.

It would be a good distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple of notes...
> 
> Translation
> 
> "Udesiir, Bob’ika, gedet’ye." -- Calm down, little Boba, please.
> 
> Let's see... Uh, yes, that was Jango, I didn't expect him for a number of chapters, but honestly, baby Boba was demanding his scene, it actually shifts a few minor things, but honestly, I think it shifted them for the better. (As a note, Jango hasn't slept in several days now. Baby Boba is going through one of those phases where he's just making his single father feel like he's losing his sanity. So when Obi-Wan says that Jango needs five minutes, Jango really needs several hours, but, yeah, that wasn't going to happen, though the few minutes were appreciated... even if it was a Jedi that helped him out...)
> 
> Second note, the relationship between the Council and Obi-Wan is still somewhat fraught at the moment. It's been a little more than a year, and they're still looking for evidence that this was either a mistake or a good idea... And some of the council are being... more disparaging then others, Mace actually meant his comment as a tease, rather than a completely serious reprimand, but given that certain other council members are being less kind... well, Obi-Wan just kind of assumes (and we all know that nothing bad can happen when you do something as silly as making assumptions...)
> 
> Third note, along the same lines, there has been a slight miscommunication between Obi-Wan and the Council, and one that Palpatine is going to take complete advantage of. The first time Obi-Wan and Anakin went for tea he went through the Council to make it happen, the Council issued it less as an invitation and more as an order, and, unintentionally, gave Obi-Wan the impression that the situation was one that they wanted, and that they were more positively inclined towards the situation than they actually were.
> 
> Anyway, those were just the few notes I had, again, no promises on which story will be updated next, three different chapters are all in the middle of being written phase, so... sigh.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Edit: Also... If there is a minor pairing, involving Obi-Wan, that will play a small role, but isn't the main pairing (and lasts, like, a chapter), should I put that in the pairing tag, or put it as a tag in the tag section as "minor Obi-Wan/insert character's name here"? Or is there another better way to do that. I don't want to catch anyone by too much of a surprise, but neither do I want to give people false impressions.


	3. New Missions and Good Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chancellor is pleased with the time spent with his son and his son's Padawan (and it's not like the idea of a pleased Palpatine is an alarming thought, not at all). The Senate continues to be a regular hive of... something (the jury is out on whether it's a hive of busy and dedicated people attempting to uphold democracy or if it's just a high scale version of a hive of scum and villainy).
> 
> On Obi-Wan's side it's now been three blissful months in the Temple with his Padawan (not even that much of an exaggeration, no one has tried to kill him; well, at least not on purpose, training with an excitable Padawan has its own share of dangers). Which of course means it's time for him to go on a mission. But it's fine. No way will this go wrong in any way, shape, or form. No way at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh... So I probably should be a smart person and wait a few days before posting this... (I feel like it always takes me longer than my brain tells me it should) (but it's worth it... so worth it) In the middle of finals is really not the best time for this. But my brain is so tired of Finals (and school in general) and this was finished... and yeah, like I said. I needed a break from Finals and preparing Finals. (I suspect that Finals actually have the ability to steal bits and pieces of people's souls, it explains the dread and exhaustion and despair that seem to be my most prevalent feelings right now.)
> 
> But this is a much happier thing to focus on... so I focus on it, I will!!! Ha!
> 
> Anyways, I'm done complaining. Enjoy the chapter!

Sheev smiled to himself as the two Jedi left his office. Finally, he was making headway. For the past year he had extended invitation after invitation to his son, but after the first time his son had made his polite excuses. Sheev was fairly certain the only reason his son had come the first time was because the invitation had gone through Master Windu, and the only reason Anakin had been allowed to continue to come visit him was because by allowing it the first time, the Council had given its tacit approval to the arrangement and Obi-Wan was still too new to being a Master, and in his case, too closely watched by the Council to want to go against them, even in a situation like this.

While that desire to not go against the Council would need to be curbed, for now it worked to suit his purposes.

And the irony that the Council actually didn’t want Anakin overly associating with him, but had somehow failed to accurately communicate their distaste was too delightful.

But, finally the Knight had come, followed along by his overly-excited Padawan. Sheev had been so very careful, making sure he gave Anakin his kindest smiles and most attentive ear. He had a feeling that it would be easier to slide his way into his son’s trust through his Padawan then through any direct action. And then he’d turned to his son and wheedled him into a game of chess. His son had been honest when he had said he wasn’t well versed in the game, but Sheev could still see the intelligence behind those green eyes. He had been sincere when he’d told his son that he’d become a contender in the game; he had the mind for it, and he appeared to grasp the strategies behind it quickly.

His time with Anakin normally consisted of extolling the boy’s virtues and marginalizing his flaws. He had a feeling the same tactic would not work on his son. No, even from his limited time with him he could see the boy had a very low opinion of himself, and praise would only be dismissed as nonsense or an attempt to ingratiate himself. Someone had ensured that Obi-Wan’s belief in himself had steadily eroded, and Qui-Gon Jinn was lucky he was dead if Sheev was right about who that someone was. His son certainly deserved better that to be degraded by the Jedi. No, what the boy needed was a kind ear and wise advice.

Which he of course would be more than happy to provide.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed, that meant that for at least a little while he would have to help the Knight help Anakin become a better Jedi. Once Obi-Wan saw that his advice was sound, that Sheev really did care, only then would Obi-Wan start to trust him. And he had a feeling that once trust was earned, it would be difficult to break or lose. From what he had observed of the boy, and from what he had read from his files, he was incredibly loyal once his loyalty was given, even at times when perhaps he should not be. 

He would still need to tread carefully, he was well aware that he intended to stretch that loyalty far beyond its normal limits.

Even then, it would be important to discover whether Obi-Wan was the type of person, who when the choice had to be made, was loyal to people, or to ideals. If Sheev was lucky, Obi-Wan would be loyal to people. If Obi-Wan was loyal to ideals, well, Sheev would have a bit more of a challenge, but in the end, Sheev knew that when it came down to it, it could be so very difficult to be loyal to freedom and democracy at the same time. Difficult to be loyal to both peace and justice.

And he only intended to make it more difficult in the coming years.

He wondered when Anakin would let it slip that the Chancellor had been the one to advise Anakin to be extra careful with his behavior while his Master was gone on his missions. He had stated it carefully, reminding Anakin that it would make it easier for his Master if the other Masters didn’t hound him the moment he stepped off the transport after his missions; making sure to insinuate just enough that Obi-Wan was perhaps the only Jedi who saw Anakin for the delightful boy that he was.

It suited several purposes, if Obi-Wan thought that the Chancellor was a good influence on Anakin, and the Chancellor had no doubt the boy would let the tidbit slip sooner or later, then it would warm his son to him even further. It also helped the Padawan’s already impressive hero-worship and admiration of his Master increase, while his distrust and displeasure with the other Jedi grew, not only for their treatment of him, but also their treatment of his Master.  
  
For a moment he actually found himself grateful that Obi-Wan was his son, Sheev had no doubt that he’d have been able to turn Anakin against Obi-Wan. No, Obi-Wan was too new and too unsure. But the devotion the two felt for each other was real, and had sprung up without any help from him, it would have been an annoyance to try and combat that sort of relationship. Now that devotion was just another way to push the two of them into the roles he had planned for them.

He smiled at the chess set and carefully put the pieces away. He had actually found that he’d enjoyed the afternoon and early evening, which was rare. Taking over the Galaxy was all well and good, but the effort that went into preparing the Galaxy to be taken over was extensive and often boring.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had actually provided him an excuse to cancel one of his appointments today, but then, he would have been willing to cancel a dozen appointments if it was necessary. Force knew it would have made it twice as difficult to convince his son to come by if the one time he’d been willing Sheev had postponed. It was easier to make apologies to a Senator for a cancelled appointment.

He made his way out of the Senate, a long, arduous process that involved stopping every half a dozen steps to fake interest in the lives of the Senators. People, in general, were simplistic and boring. That these were the individuals their planets had elected to represent their best interests said nothing good about the political intelligence of the majority of the Galaxy.

He stopped when a voice called out to him. “Chancellor.” He turned to see the current Naboo Senator hurrying to catch up with him. 

“Senator Greejatus, a pleasure to see you, as always.”

Senator Greejatus smiled at him nervously, “And a pleasure to see you as well. I’m grateful I caught you before you left. I was hoping I would be able to ask for your advice.”

Sheev made sure his smile was just the tiniest bit confused, “You know I’m always willing to give what advice I can, though I admit, I do prefer to handle such things in the office.”

“Ah. Well, yes, of course.” Senator Greejatus twitched a little, and how had this man ever been made Senator? He had absolutely no understanding of how to maintain a politician’s smile. “I would, of course, normally do that. But I thought that this was a matter more for Naboo, than the Senate.”

Sheev nodded seriously, “I understand, I do. Though I must remind you that as Chancellor I must remain impartial, no matter how dear to my heart Naboo will always be.”

“Of course! Of course! I wasn’t trying to imply that you were anything less than impartial.”

Sheev smiled, “But let us see what I can do for you.”

“Ah, well, perhaps we can take this to my office?”

The somewhat pleasant mood the successful afternoon with his son had provided him was very quickly draining away. “I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”

If only it had taken a few minutes, nearly an hour and a half later Sheev was able to excuse himself from Senator Greejatus’s office. The man had talked around his issue for the first 45 minutes, which, while a wonderful example of political waffling, was a waste of Sheev’s time, especially since the issue was that Senator Greejatus was clearly trying to find a way to deal under the table with the Trade Federation, but could, for very obvious reasons, not allow for the people of Naboo to realize this. Thankfully, the fool had never actually said as much, though how the Senator thought he was being subtle was beyond Sheev. Sheev wouldn’t allow his reputation to be tarnished by accusations of corruption. Senator Greejatus was a greedy, incompetent fool.

Greed, Sheev could handle. Greed, he could even appreciate, greedy people were easy to manipulate. But incompetence? That Sheev found to be unforgivable, and Senator Greejatus was entirely incompetent. And fools? Fools were a waste of Sheev’s time.

He suspected that Senator Greejatus was serving his first and only term as Senator, and his term couldn’t end soon enough.

At least Senator Greejatus’s incompetence would make the people of Naboo look even more favorably upon his own time as Senator. Of course, he’d always ensured that he was a good Senator, one the people would feel cared for them. But even a subpar Senator would look fantastic next to Greejatus.

He made a mental note to express his concern to Queen Amidala about Greejatus’ suitability, preferably just before public opinion turned against the man. After all, he was deeply devoted to Naboo and its constituents, and he would feel absolutely terrible if Naboo’s Senator in any way proved themselves a disgrace.

He finally made it out of the Senate building to find that his driver had returned from taking the two Jedi to the Temple and was waiting for him.  
  
Sheev slid into the back of the speeder. “Was your trip to the Temple without issues?”

“Yes, Chancellor.”

Sheev nodded to himself, pleased. It was important to remember that it was the small things that would help him reach his goals, a peaceful ride back to the Temple might seem a simple thing to accept now, and while Sheev doubted that his son would feel indebted by the action, he would always remember it.

And that was more than enough for Sheev to work with. He’d give his son a few days before he reached out again. 

Sheev had plenty of time.

—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_

Obi-Wan stepped out of the lift and into the Council Chamber’s waiting area, Anakin at his heels.

Anakin hadn’t actually been called to attend whatever meeting was coming, but he didn’t have any classes this afternoon and had been persistent about coming and at least waiting with him. Anakin’s pout when his Padawan had explained that Obi-Wan was probably being sent on another mission if he was getting called to meet with the Council again had been one of the most heartrending pouts Obi-Wan had been forced to face and he had allowed Anakin to tag along so they could spend a little more time together.

In the time that Obi-Wan and Anakin had been together Obi-Wan had only been on five missions, and most of them had been relatively short. As it was Obi-Wan had remained on Coruscant for just over three months now and Anakin seemed very disappointed that his streak was breaking.

Obi-Wan would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed to be abandoning his Padawan again.

Obi-Wan took one of the seats closer to the lift while Anakin glanced around the waiting room and at the two other Jedi also waiting for the opportunity to speak with the Council before making a face and plopping down gracelessly in the seat next to him.

“Why do you think everything is so boringly decorated?”

Obi-Wan glanced around the waiting area, and yes, he supposed Anakin had a point that the decoration was somewhat sparse. “There can be beauty in simplicity.”

Anakin looked unconvinced. “Well maybe beauty is really just another word for boring, then. I think it would be wizard if there were interesting things to look at while we have to wait.”

“I’ll make sure to voice your suggestion to the Council the next time they ask my opinion on their decorating choices.”

Anakin’s sigh made it clear he didn’t think Obi-Wan was taking his complaint seriously enough and Obi-Wan had to hold back his desire to laugh.

The lift’s doors opened again and Master Tholme entered. Obi-Wan gave him a shallow nod and the Jedi Master gave him a nod back. There was a hint of a storm about the Jedi Master, a tremble in the Force around him. While Obi-Wan was aware that Master Tholme had a reputation around the Temple for a certain degree of gravitas, Obi-Wan had always known him best as Quinlan’s Master, and the man had always seemed good-natured and genial. He had to be, with having had Quinlan as his Padawan. The thought of Quinlan made Obi-Wan smile. Quinlan and Aayla had been sent on a mission almost immediately after Obi-Wan had returned from his last mission. Quinlan had come over and spent the night, and then had spent the next morning playing sounding board while Obi-Wan had tried to figure out how to best help Anakin.

Despite the fact that Quinlan was only just slightly older, and didn’t actually have all that much more experience than Obi-Wan, the act of talking things through had helped.

Master Tholme sat near where he and Anakin were sitting and Obi-Wan watched as Anakin gave the other Jedi a scrutinizing look.

“How is life treating you, Master Tholme?” Obi-Wan asked, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb the others waiting.

Master Tholme gave him a smile, but there was something decidedly strained to it. “Oh, well enough.”

Obi-Wan eyed him, trying to decide if it would be improper for him to push it, but there was a look in Master Tholme’s eyes that suggested that Master Tholme would prefer he didn’t. “I am glad to hear that.”

“And you,” Master Tholme’s eyes softened, “how are you doing, Obi-Wan? It’s been quite the year for you.”

One year, three months, two weeks, and three days.

Someday Obi-Wan wasn’t going to wake up every morning feeling like he wasn’t strong enough to be a Knight and a Master, and maybe that would be the day where he didn’t add another day to his mental count.

He rested a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, sending his Padawan a small smile. “Anakin and I are doing well. Anakin’s been a bright spot in a difficult year.”  
  
Master Tholme nodded and the strain in his eyes was back. “Padawans are a blessing in a Master’s life.”

Obi-Wan felt his back stiffen. “Is everything going all right with Quinlan?”

Master Tholme’s smile went sharp. “The Council has assured me that everything is fine.” 

Obi-Wan froze at the implication. The Council would have had no need to tell Tholme that everything was fine with Quinlan if Tholme hadn’t gone to them with concerns. Most Masters and Padawans severed their bonds after the Padawan was Knighted. It wasn’t, however, required of any Jedi pair and Obi-Wan wouldn’t be at all surprised if Master Tholme and Quinlan had just let their bond lie dormant, or perhaps even continued to use it actively. 

“I see.”

Anakin looked at him, obviously confused, but Obi-Wan wasn’t going to draw attention to what Master Tholme had meant, not here just outside the Council Chamber with other Jedi capable of listening in.

The doors to the Council Chamber opened and a Master and Senior Padawan that Obi-Wan didn’t immediately recognize walked out. Master Depa Billaba followed them out and her eyes skipped past the other Jedi who had been waiting longer and landed on where Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Master Tholme were sitting. “Master Tholme, Knight Kenobi.” She glanced at Anakin. “I don’t believe we requested Padawan Skywalker’s presence.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “He was merely accompanying me.”

Master Billaba nodded, giving him a faint smile. “Of course.” She gestured to them, “please, join us.”

Obi-Wan stood, giving Anakin’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Don’t let the decoration bore you too terribly.”

Anakin made a face at him, but nodded, his eyes darting between Obi-Wan and Master Tholme, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Obi-Wan followed Master Tholme into the Council Chamber, noting with a small sense of unease that the hint of storm had returned to the Jedi Master’s presence, even stronger than it had been before.

There was a moment of silence after both he and Master Tholme bowed as the Council watched them and Obi-Wan wondered what they were looking for.

“Master Tholme.” Master Windu’s voice cut through the silence. “Has there been any change in the bond with your former Padawan since the last time you came to the Council with your concerns?”

Sometimes it amazed Obi-Wan how Master Windu could make his voice sound both disappointed, likely at what he considered a sign of attachment, and concerned, presumably because something had happened to Quinlan.

Obi-Wan was grateful that his hands were hidden in the sleeves of his robes where he had them crossed in front of him as he clenched his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

“No change. My bond with Quinlan has continued to remain clouded, the most I’ve received, as I mentioned before, were small hints of pain.”

The Council exchanged glances and Obi-Wan could feel a quiet tension in the air as they communicated through the Force.

Master Windu steepled his fingers in front of him, his face set in a small frown. “The Council has not heard from Knight Vos or Padawan Secura in nearly a month now.”

Obi-Wan stared at the Masters, carefully concealing the horror he felt. Master Tholme stood beside him, his whole body taut. “Do we know what has happened to them?”

Master Windu shook his head. “No. Last we heard, their mission on Ryloth, while not yet successful, was nearing completion and they believed they had a lead which would allow them to finish their mission and report back to the Temple. We did not expect an immediate response and it was not instantly noticed when they failed to report back.” Master Windu sighed. “When you reached out to us with your concerns about Knight Vos we attempted to reach them, but have had no success.” 

“What was their mission?” Tholme asked, his voice completely calm. But Obi-Wan was sure he wasn’t the only one to recognize that Tholme was anything but. The storm around Master Tholme was still, but Obi-Wan sensed it was because Master Tholme had reached a level of fear and anger even beyond that.

“They were investigating a glitteryll smuggling ring.” Master Windu said calmly, sending a warning look at Master Tholme. “We’re sending the both of you to finish the investigation into the smuggling ring.”

“And what of Quinlan and Aayla?”

“This smuggling ring has caused issues on multiple planets, enough so that the Senate has asked that we step in. The Senate has been very clear that this smuggling ring is to be our priority, but if possible, any leads that can be found on the whereabouts of Knight Vos and Padawan Secura are to be reported to the Temple so that we can dispatch a second team.

“If possible?”

“Yes, Master Tholme, if possible.”

Master Tholme’s voice dropped lower. “And when will this second team be dispatched?”

“The moment you give us a viable lead.”

“Knight Vos and Padawan Secura are members of this Order, Master Tholme.” Master Gallia’s voice was quiet but firm. “We will do everything in our power to find them and bring them back.”

It was at times like this, that Obi-Wan wondered if they specifically chose Jedi who they knew would blatantly ignore them. There was no way that Master Tholme would ever not do everything he could to find Quinlan and Aayla, and while Master Tholme might trust and respect other Jedi, Obi-Wan didn’t think that trust and respect outweighed the well-being of his former Padawan and his Grandpadawan. If the Council didn’t know that then they were either being willfully blind or they were out of touch with reality. As it was, Obi-Wan would put his bet on willfully blind.

He wondered whether they were sending him along because they had taken into consideration Obi-Wan’s friendship with Quinlan and thought that Obi-Wan would enable Master Tholme or if they remembered that he’d often had to be the voice of reason during his time as Master Qui-Gon’s Padawan and were hoping that he would once again play that role for Master Tholme.

“We have compiled all the information Knight Vos sent back to us into a brief and we have managed to secure the two of you personal transport for this mission. You should leave as soon as possible.” Master Windu glanced at Obi-Wan. “We have already informed the Initiate Hall that Anakin will be joining them for a time and his teachers will be informed.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll be off immediately.” Tholme said, his voice sharp and serious.

Obi-Wan didn’t contradict him. Anakin would understand the urgency in them leaving as soon as possible.

Master Windu nodded. “May the Force be with you both.”

Obi-Wan bowed, noting that Master Tholme’s bow was on the shallow side. “May the Force be with you, Masters.”

Master Tholme nodded, his voice murmuring the farewell quietly.

Obi-Wan waited for Master Tholme to turn to leave before following.

Anakin jumped to his feet when they exited and Master Billaba called for one of the Knights to join the Council. Master Tholme gave Anakin a long look before sighing. “Take some time to say goodbye to your Padawan.” His smile was brittle. “I’ll collect the brief and meet you in the hangar bay.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ll be there soon.”

Master Tholme nodded in farewell and Obi-Wan watched him leave, letting him take the lift alone. Obi-Wan suspected Master Tholme wanted a few moments alone to deal with his understandable anxieties.

Anakin looked up at him, one hand coming up and clutching at Obi-Wan’s robes. It was a habit Anakin had developed at the beginning of their time together, a way for him to know that Obi-Wan was there, and assure himself that Obi-Wan wasn’t going to disappear. After having lost both his mother and Qui-Gon in the space of weeks Obi-Wan had understood the need to reassure himself that there was someone there. 

“Is it Knight Quinlan and Aayla?” Anakin asked quietly, his voice hesitant.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes.” He gave Anakin a small smile. “Let’s head back to our apartment. You’ll be staying in the Initiate Hall again while I’m gone.”

Anakin made a face, but he didn’t complain. Obi-Wan suspected that Anakin was very aware of just how severe a situation this was.

They were quiet as they made their way back to their apartment.

“So the Council is sending you to save them?” Anakin asked the moment the door to their apartment closed. Obi-Wan hesitated and Anakin noticed immediately. “You’re not saving them?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “You know Master Tholme and I will do whatever we can to find and save Quinlan and Aayla.”

Anakin stared at him, eyes serious, but then nodded. “Okay.” Anakin watched him grab the few things that he needed for every mission and put them in a small pack. “Do you think I’ll be able to go with you? Soon?”

Obi-Wan stopped moving for a second and looked at his padawan. Force, Anakin was young, and it was terrifying, because Anakin would be given permission to go out with him on missions soon. 

How did Masters do it? All he wanted was to protect Anakin, and this galaxy wasn’t safe, and the role they played in it wasn’t one that came with any guarantees of a long, happy life.

“I have no doubts that you’ll be sent out with me soon.” He pulled Anakin into a hug. “So that means I need you to study hard while I’m gone. You’ll need to be prepared.”

Anakin grinned at him from where his face was smashed into Obi-Wan’s tunics. “I’ll be the best student ever.”

“I have no doubts.”

He quickly helped Anakin pack the small bag of clothes and datapads that he would need while he was in the Initiate Hall.

He walked his Padawan to the Initiate Hall he had stayed in the last few times that Obi-Wan had been on a mission. “Be good, Anakin.”

Anakin nodded. “I will. Don’t worry.” He darted in for a hug so tight that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be surprised if Anakin was trying to break his back, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s desire for him to stay and the worry he had for Obi-Wan’s safety broadcasting through the Force. Obi-Wan ignored the somewhat severe look one of the Initiate Masters gave him, likely also sensing Anakin’s emotions through the Force and displeased with the lack of control they presented.

Something to work on when Obi-Wan got back, but for now he sent a pulse of adoration down his bond with Anakin. “You’re my Padawan, I’ll always worry.”

Anakin looked pleased with that. “Be safe. I worry about you, too.”

“I will be.” He stepped back. “Now I’m sure Master Tholme is waiting for me, and the sooner I leave, the sooner I get back.”

“May the Force be with you.” The words still had the sense of hesitancy about them, as though Anakin wasn’t quite sure he was remembering the standard farewell parting correctly and was afraid to get it wrong.

Obi-Wan smiled at him, and sent him a small wave of affirmation. “And may the Force be with you, my young Padawan.”

 

The transport was quiet as they both pored over the different reports Quinlan had made to the Council. “Doesn’t it seem a little unusual for there to be so many reports?” Obi-Wan asked. He knew that Qui-Gon had not been the best example of giving reports, after all Obi-Wan had taken over reporting to the Council when he was fifteen.

While it was standard to send in the occasional report during the mission, particularly when it was a Senate mandated mission, this number of reports seemed strange to him.

Tholme looked up from his datapad. “One of the Senators behind this mission had a daughter who became addicted, she ended up dead a few days after he found out and tried to get her clean.”

Ah. 

He frowned grimacing. “Energy spiders?” He couldn’t help the distaste in his voice. Obi-Wan was fine with spiders, he was. He would just prefer to let them have their own space far from his space. He could appreciate them and the role they played in the Living Force from a distance. “They’re feeding energy spiders Ryll?” He shook his head. “Because Glitterstim wasn’t bad enough on it’s own.”

Master Tholme let out a hum. “You know how it goes in the search for a more potent drug. Ryll is common enough to find on Ryloth, it was an understandable drug combination to test.” Tholme sighed. “And they did create a very potent drug.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “That they did.”

They fell into silence again as they scoured the reports. “It appears to me that the smuggling ring has at least one high ranking official in their pocket.” Tholme said quietly. “What are your thoughts?”

Obi-Wan tilted his head as he considered the reports. “Things do seem to run very smoothly for this ring.” He hesitated. “I don’t have any hard reasons for it, but I suspect a political backer.”

Tholme nodded. “I’m leaning that way as well, though I wouldn’t discount someone on the higher end of law enforcement either.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Or both, or neither. We’ll have to do some digging.”

Tholme nodded and the transport fell quiet again.

Finally Obi-Wan stood, holding back a yawn. There were still a few days until they reached Ryloth and Obi-Wan wanted to look over the information they had again when he had a bit more sleep to go off of. “I’m going to try and get some rest.”

Tholme nodded almost absentmindedly. “You’re a good man, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan paused at that, a little confused both by the compliment and the lack of reason for it. “Thank you?”

Tholme looked up at him, his brows furrowed slightly as he stared at where Obi-Wan stood. “It can be difficult to be both a good man and a good Jedi.” He looked down at the datapad he was holding. “Quinlan, Quinlan was always a good child.” His lip twitched into an almost smile. “By no means was he a well behaved child, he was always bit of a rascal, but where it mattered Quinlan was good.”

Obi-Wan could agree with that assessment. Quinlan had been the type to put dye in his shampoo or sneak into his apartment to change his alarm which caused Obi-Wan to be late for classes or push him into one of the pools in the Room of a Thousand Fountains and then fall over from laughing too hard as Obi-Wan flailed and spat out pond water.

He’d also been the one who had snarled at Siri to shut up and leave Obi-Wan alone when she was hurling insults at Obi-Wan for having left the Order. Had been the one who had defended him against accusations of darkness when Bruck had died. Had been the one who had held him when Obi-Wan had returned from a year on Mandalore feeling confused and hurt and heartbroken.

“He is.” Obi-Wan agreed.

“In some ways he’s lost that. The same way many of us do.” Tholme sighed. “He has had to make choices that no person should have to be asked to make. Sometimes there are no good answers for a good person to choose from.”

“Quinlan is still one of the best people I know.” Obi-Wan said quietly. 

Master Tholme gave him a sad, tired smile. “He is. But he’s a Jedi, and we’re often told to look the other way. We’re told that we don’t have the authority to intervene. We’re told the mission comes first.”

Obi-Wan knew. Oh, did Obi-Wan know.

And he also knew what Tholme was really thinking about. This wasn’t about past missions. This wasn’t even really about Quinlan and his choices.

This was about this mission, about Aayla and Quinlan and the fact that they were missing. This was about the orders they’d been given and the choices they would have to make.

“We will find them, Master Tholme.”

“And the mission?”

Obi-Wan hesitated. Because he had read the reports the Council had given them about the terrible effects this single Glitteryll smuggling ring had caused. It went far beyond the death of a single Senator’s child. It had caused hundreds of deaths when it became the point of contention of a gang war on Rodia, was rumored to be spreading among slavers as a way to keep slaves docile during transport, had caused a surge of addictions and deaths on Coruscant.  
  
The Senate wasn’t wrong that this was something that needed to be handled, and Ryloth’s inability, or unwillingness, to handle it meant the Senate was flexing its power by sending the Jedi.

Probably a message about the Senate’s unwillingness to accept corruption, or at least its unwillingness to accept corruption that wasn’t benefiting its members.

He pushed the thought aside, acknowledging the bitterness behind the sentiment and reminding himself that he would need to meditate on the situation.  
  
It did not matter what the Senate’s motivations were, because there were innocent people being hurt, innocent people who were in need and Obi-Wan refused to ignore that.

But still, he also couldn’t stop thinking about Quinlan, who was one of the closest friends Obi-Wan would ever have. He thought of Aayla who had reached out a hand of friendship to Anakin when nearly no one else had. Aayla who was only twelve and on her first mission.

“We will figure this out, Master Tholme. The two matters are not unrelated.”

Master Tholme was watching him, and he looked almost sad. “You’re a good Jedi, Obi-Wan.” He sighed. “And you’re still a good man. I hope you never lose that.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he agreed with Master Tholme’s estimation of his character, but he murmured a quiet thanks anyways.

“There is a chance, Obi-Wan, that I am going to need you to tell me when I am in danger of crossing the line.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes as he looked at the older man, who still carried a hint of storm about him. “You know something more about this situation than you’ve said.” Master Tholme met his eyes evenly and Obi-Wan knew he was right. “There is something that you haven’t told me. Something you didn’t tell the Council.”

Master Tholme didn’t immediately answer, not a trace of guilt or hesitation in either the man’s eyes or in the Force, but Obi-Wan still knew he was right.

“What more is there, Master Tholme?”

Master Tholme was watching him, brow furrowed in contemplation, as though he wasn’t sure this was information that he could trust Obi-Wan with.

Finally, the Master sighed. “I was not completely honest with the Council when it came to my bond with Quinlan and what I had detected from it.”  
  
Obi-Wan frowned, watching Master Tholme carefully. If it was something that would help them find Quinlan and Aayla then Obi-Wan doubted Master Tholme would have stayed quiet about it. If Master Tholme was staying silent, it was because the information wasn’t good.

“He’s not dead.”

Master Tholme looked surprised. “No, no. He’s alive.” Master Tholme sighed and ran a hand over the scars that lined the left side of his face. “Quinlan isn’t accessing the bond. It’s nearly impossible to get any sense of where or how he is. The bond itself is clouded. Quinlan is clouded, fractured, and I’m not close enough to use the bond to help him focus through the drugs.”

“You told the Council this. The assumption was that Quinlan is drugged.”

The look Master Tholme gave him was scrutinizing, assessing. “My sense of Quinlan has darkened.”

Obi-Wan took a few seconds to comprehend exactly what Tholme was saying, what he meant. Oh.

He looked away from Master Tholme, taking that in. No wonder Master Tholme had said nothing of this to the Council. While the Council would by no means abandon Quinlan, it wouldn’t do Quinlan any good. And there were some Jedi who would respond very poorly to the idea. It could very easily put Quinlan in an untenable position.

“I see.” He nodded, taking a deep breath to fortify himself. “We’ll figure it out.”

Master Tholme raised an eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of what that might mean?”

Obi-Wan laughed even though the situation was the furthest thing from funny, running a hand over his face. “I’m absolutely terrified of what this might mean for Quinlan. What might have happened. But neither of us know. We don’t know what’s happened, what he’s going through. I refuse to jump to conclusions. All I know is that this is Quinlan. That’s all I need to know.”

“And if he has Fallen?” Master Tholme pressed. There was a note of danger to the question, and Obi-Wan worried about what Tholme would have done if Obi-Wan had reacted poorly.

Obi-Wan knew what Yoda said. Knew the Masters all said that once a person Fell there was no coming back from that. And there always seemed to be ample examples to prove their point.

But Obi-Wan had seen Qui-Gon after Tahl’s death. Had seen Master Windu in the middle of Vapaad. Had felt loss and pain and rage when Qui-Gon had died. Had seen Qui-Gon come back. Had watched Master Windu meditate. Had let go of his grief to fight the fight that had to be fought.

And this was Quinlan. Obi-Wan knew Quinlan, knew that Quinlan had always been afraid of Falling; he walked close to the edge, he always had. Quinlan was a creature of emotion, of passion. Quinlan felt so very deeply and that was both a gift and a danger the Masters had always been careful to warn Quinlan away from.

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

Master Tholme looked tired and amused. “Quinlan always did say that you were painfully optimistic. So intent on believing the best of the people you cared for. Even if he thought you shouldn’t.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Is that what he says? I always thought that Quinlan’s preferred description of me was a boring stick in the mud with too much sense and not enough fun.”

“Well,” Master Tholme said, his voice an amused drawl. “He has said that too.”

Obi-Wan laughed, and the tension in the ship broke as Tholme managed an actual smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was more set up for the rest of the mission than anything really happening. (Originally it was all one chapter, but... it got LONG, so I cut it up.) But the set up has to happen at some point! 
> 
> Thank you to Lys who helped bring this chapter to a higher level than it was. Her help and encouragement are very much appreciated. :D
> 
> And now I'm going to go back to getting ready for my Final tomorrow which I really need to not fail...


	4. Cantinas are the Place to Meet People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine is pleased with his skilled and talented pawns. (Lie, Palpatine has rarely been pleased in his life, and skilled and talented might be overstating things, just a little.) Of course, taking over the galaxy requires the best of the best (and as unfortunate as it is, certain pawns might not make the cut).
> 
> Obi-Wan and Tholme make it to Ryloth to find that everything is going well (this is another lie, nothing about this is going well and Quinlan and Aayla are GONE). Obi-Wan proves that he takes his own safety very seriously (and doesn't, by any means choose to antagonize anyone who would gladly skewer him if they had the opportunity). In a rare twist, It actually mostly works out for him.

At any given time, Sheev had over a dozen different schemes in motion. The Galaxy was, after all, a large place; it was important to build and cultivate unrest in as many places as possible in preparation for the war that was coming.

Not to mention it was helpful to start placing his pawns into the positions he needed them to be in.

Though he preferred it when his pawns were capable of actually thinking for themselves. A pawn that needed to be moved at every step was more of a hindrance than a help.

Chom Frey Kaa was beginning to fall into that category. The man had had such potential. But it was Sheev who had nudged him into joining with Pol Secura and Asante Vos. A venture that had proved very helpful, and had allowed Sheev to successfully resolve two other ventures, stir unrest in a number of locations, and land Quinlan Vos squarely in his hands. Between all of that the venture had been a worthwhile investment of his time. But it was beginning to lose its value, particularly since Kaa seemed to need his hand held now that the venture was beginning to hit, what should have been expected, snags.

Kaa had nearly blown the entire operation when the Jedi had first started poking their noses into the smuggling ring’s operations. It had been Sheev who had quietly reminded him that when not done carefully, the killing of Jedi would only bring the full attention of the Jedi Council upon them.

If Kaa was a somewhat more talented operative, then Sheev would trust that the Senator was capable of killing the Jedi without bringing everything crashing down on the operation. But Kaa wasn’t, and Sheev wasn’t inclined to risk it.

Of course, Sheev had also taken into account that it had been Quinlan Vos that the Jedi had sent. Sheev made sure to keep an eye on any Jedi who had useful talents, and Quinlan Vos’ talents with Psychometry were well documented in his files.

As a bonus Vos had been trained as a Shadow. Sheev found it was enjoyable to see how far he could push Shadows until they Fell, particularly how far he could push them without the Jedi Council noticing. Dooku was the exception in that he actually had a use as an Apprentice. Whereas anyone else that Sheev caused to Fall, be they Jedi or other Force users were good for being his Acolytes in the future.

Not to mention it was delightful knowing that the Council grew more and more uneasy as the Dark Side around Coruscant and the Temple grew harder and harder to see through as more and more Jedi slipped into the shallow shadows of the Dark Side, whether they realized it or not.

Sheev did so love watching the Council struggle, and he hadn’t even really started in on them yet.

The poor fools. They didn’t stand a chance.

Though those particular fools weren’t the cause of his current annoyance. No, that honor went to Kaa, who was proving to be more incompetent by the day.

He had so few hours outside of the Senate, but needs had to be met. He covered himself in his cloak as the holo turned on, presenting Chom Frey Kaa twitching anxiously in his office, eyes darting between the floor and where Sheev’s hologram was. “You indicated that the matter was urgent.” He said, letting a rasp seep into his voice.

Kaa nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes, my Lord. Another pair of Jedi have been spotted on Ryloth looking into the smuggling ring.”

“They are very persistent. Perhaps, if you had practiced discretion in where the Glitteryll was sent, the Senate would not be so concerned with your little smuggling ring.”

“The Chommel and Doldur Sectors were very profitable.” Kaa protested, as those were the only missteps he’d made.

“In the short term perhaps, but getting the Senator of Enarc’s daughter addicted was the first step in causing so many Senators to be concerned about your little Glitteryll production and sparking the gang war in Rodia was the nail in your coffin. I do not deal with incompetence Kaa, perhaps I will let the Jedi handle you if you can’t manage to figure out how to handle them.” He allowed his condescension to fill his voice. “After all, you managed to bungle the last situation with the Jedi. A schism, Kaa? It’s been a month, if you can’t manage to bring your ring under control, then perhaps someone else can do it better.”

Kaa straightened. “I’ve urged Asante to place a bounty on Pol, he’ll be under control soon.” Kaa twitched. “Should I drug these Jedi as well? Secura may not want to keep them the way he did the Padawan brat, but we can send them to the rings the way we did with the Knight.”

“You want to use the trick that brought more Jedi to your doorstep a second time? Your creativity knows no bounds.”

Kaa twitched. “I could have Asante add another bounty?” He glanced at a document on his datapad. “Fifteen thousand credits for Master Tholme and ten thousand credits for Knight Kenobi?”

Had Obi-Wan been sent on another mission? Sheev hadn’t been aware, he’d have to make sure to invite Anakin to come visit him a few times while Obi-Wan was gone. “Are you asking me, Kaa? Is this beyond your abilities to handle?”

Kaa shook his head, growing pale. “No, my Lord.”

Sheev considered the Twi’lek carefully.

He had a few options available to him now. He could do his best to redirect Obi-Wan from Ryloth, but the reports that Knight Vos had sent back to the Jedi Temple were detailed enough that it would take a great deal of effort to redirect their focus elsewhere, particularly with Knight Vos and Padawan Secura missing.

He could consider Kaa and his smuggling ring a lost cause and allow Obi-Wan and the Jedi with him to handle it as they would. It was no great loss, Kaa had already proved himself incompetent. And even if Padawan Secura was found and saved, the situation was rife for future manipulation of the girl if he so desired. Vos was no longer on Ryloth and Kaa had erased all information indicating where the Knight had been moved, it was unlikely that he would be found now. 

The last reports from the ring suggested that Vos had already started to Fall. Even if by some slight chance he were found, Sheev expected that his return to the Temple would not be very welcoming.

Of course, there was a third option. He could get rid of Obi-Wan and the other Jedi with him, keep the smuggling ring at least a little longer.

He rejected the thought quickly. No, his son had far more importance in his grand scheme than Kaa and his ring ever would.

Decision made he waved his hand dismissively at the holo. “You have proven yourself unable to handle this situation, Kaa. No, these particular Jedi are not to be touched by you. I will handle them myself.”

Kaa nodded hastily, though Sheev noticed his eyes flash in angry offense. “Of course, my Lord.” There was a note of mulishness at being so thoroughly dismissed and Sheev suspected that Kaa would still reach out to Asante about putting a bounty out on the two Jedi.

“I will be watching how things unfold carefully with this schism, Kaa, be careful not to disappoint me again.”

He reached out with the Force, slipping into the Twi’lek’s mind ensuring that Kaa understood that Obi-Wan was not to be touched, even if Kaa wouldn’t quite be able to give a reason as to why he felt that way and carefully slipping the memories of his own involvement into the shadows of the other man’s mind. If Kaa was caught, and Sheev suspected that would be happening sooner rather than later, Kaa would only have faint memories of him, nothing substantial, and should he try to shift the blame he would sound like a desperate man trying to use the same excuse the Trade Federation had used after the Naboo Crisis. It would garner him no sympathy and a great deal of contempt.

“Yes, my Lord.” Kaa tilted his head, even as his eyes went wide and glazed with confusion as the manipulations started to work.

Hidden in his sleeve, he twitched his hand and the transmission cut. He removed his cloak and exited the Force-shielded room and wandered to the main sitting area of his apartment, not a hint of his true character visible to the different listening devices and cameras he pretended he didn’t know about as he continued to do the paperwork Kaa had interrupted.

Once done with that paperwork he shifted focus, pulling up the information on the different missions the Jedi had running. He skimmed through the most recent ones before he found the one he was most interested in, having been assigned two weeks ago. 

Interesting, apparently the mission was only to unravel the smuggling ring, no mention of Knight Vos and his Padawan. Of course, it was possible that the Council had added that part of the mission off the record. And of course, they had sent Master Tholme who had been Knight Vos’s own Master, whether the Council had added the retrieval of the two missing Jedi off the record or not, there was a high chance that they were expecting Master Tholme to take certain matters into his own hands.

How glorious would it be if he managed to manipulate the Fall of two Shadows with this single mission? He felt a certain level of satisfaction at imagining the Jedi Master’s reaction to losing his former Padawan. Jedi could be so very sentimental, it was disgusting.

Disgusting or not, it was still a very useful trait to manipulate.

He moved on and continued to skim the rest of the file. Apparently a Jedi had been sent to try and negotiate peace on Khorm, a Knight Sartross. Sheev made a note to keep a close eye on the situation. Khorm was one of the few planets with Agrocite, and Sheev would be very interested to see who came out on top of the current negotiations.

He skimmed the rest of the list, but nothing and no one else stood out to him for the moment, he would need to get in contact with his new Apprentice, Dooku had been instructed to start creating alliances, Sheev was faintly optimistic that Dooku wouldn’t be a complete failure. 

He would give Vos another month to completely Fall before having his death faked and then, if Dooku had proved that he wasn’t a complete failure, Sheev would consider gifting the Knight to Dooku to see how well Dooku could contain a newly Fallen Jedi.

It would be a good test of Dooku’s abilities and Dooku needed to start proving himself capable of training Acolytes.

 

—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_

 

Obi-Wan moved out from where he'd been hiding in the trees a distance away from the location he and Tholme had narrowed down as the most likely location for the energy spider nests, trying to look for any signs of movements from the smugglers. The area had been suspiciously silent. He hoped that Tholme was having more success scouting yet another set of warehouses down in the cave system.

It had been over a week and they had found nothing so far. Every piece of information Quinlan had given them was completely out of date and everywhere they had begun their search had turned up nothing.

He kept to the shadows of the trees, moving as silently as he could.

It didn't take him long before he started finding traces of webs. Very, very large webs.

Force. Energy spiders were perhaps larger than the average spider, and Quinlan had mentioned increased growth. But if Obi-Wan was correctly judging the size of these webs then increased growth was putting it lightly, these spiders would be larger than the average humanoid.

He wasn't at all ashamed to admit that it left him slightly unnerved.

But even more unnerving was the emptiness.

He kept to the outskirts of where he could see the faint traces of already collected webs, but still he could see and sense nothing. The smugglers may have collected the webs to process them into Glitteryll, but the spiders wouldn't have moved far from their original nesting location. He ventured in further but the silence and emptiness persisted, though as he made his way further in, the trees from which the webs had hung started to appear more and more damaged. He wrinkled his nose in disgust when he came across a decomposing, half-eaten twi’lek near a particularly damaged tree.

He’d found the nest. Or at least where it had used to be. They'd moved the nest.

Which was actually something of an impressive feat. 

And something of an alarming one as well.

The fact that Quinlan and Aayla had disappeared was a very clear sign that the smugglers had realized they'd been discovered. But Obi-Wan's experience with smugglers, which was perhaps vaster than it should be, had led him to expect an increase in security, not a complete evacuation.  
  
And if they had gone through the effort of moving the energy spiders, then Obi-Wan suspected they were doing their best to hide themselves in the darkest hole they had found.

Discovery couldn’t have been the only reason they'd moved the nests. No smuggling ring went undiscovered forever, and it would be too much of a hassle to move locations whenever they were discovered, particularly when energy spiders had only been known to survive on a few planets and they would have to remain on Ryloth.

He went through the rest of the area carefully, but other than two more decomposing bodies he found nothing of use. 

He sighed and left the former spider nest. It was a fair trek back to the underground system where he and Tholme had split up and if he wanted to get out of the forest before dark he needed to get moving now.

He kept his senses alert as he pulled out the datapad with all of the information again. There had to be some sort of information they'd missed, something that would explain the smugglers moving their entire operation.

But by the time he made it to the cave system where the city was built he hadn't had a moment of brilliance, and based off the dark look on Tholme's face he hadn't had any more luck than Obi-Wan had.

It was not the most auspicious way to go about their mission.

 

They kept looking, asking, listening.

The lack of leads on the smuggling ring would have been frustrating enough, but worse was their absolute inability to find any information on Aayla and Quinlan.

The few people they could find who did remember the pair had no useful information to share. Apparently everything had seemed fine and then the two Jedi were suddenly gone.

It was not encouraging that two Jedi could so easily disappear without any sort of fuss. Particularly when one of those Jedi was Quinlan, who in Obi-Wan's experience had never managed to do anything quietly in his life. (That was a lie, Quinlan could be quiet when he needed to be, could be stealthy, could be dangerous. But he never made life easy for anyone, and it seemed wrong that the first time he let things work easily was when it was a group of smugglers who were hurting him.)

Tholme was growing progressively quieter, his eyes growing sharper, his presence in the Force stormy.

"We're going to go get a drink." Obi-Wan said after searching another set of mostly abandoned caves.

Tholme's eyes flashed to look at him, but then he nodded. "Local or traveler?"

"Whichever catches our eyes first."

Tholme nodded and Obi-Wan let him lead the way back to the more populated cave systems. As they got closer Obi-Wan fell more into step with the older Jedi, letting his Force presence brush gently against the other man's, not a nudge or a demand, more akin to a brush of shoulder against shoulder, a reminder that he was there.

Some of the tension in the other man subsided and Obi-Wan considered it a small victory.

Tholme's hand gestured to the side. "What do you think?"

Obi-Wan eyed the bar thoughtfully, grateful that despite his far more extensive experience and his frustration with the situation, Tholme still treated this mission like an equal partnership. The pub looked just a shade disreputable, but it didn't look or feel like a hive of villainy. "Just the right amount of disreputable, I hope."

"I'm sure you and Master Qui-Gon spent plenty of time in very similar locations."

Obi-Wan felt the corner of his lips tug up into a smile. "Perhaps more often than was strictly necessary."

"I find myself not at all surprised to hear that."

No one who had known Qui-Gon would be surprised to hear that. 

Tholme entered the bar and Obi-Wan followed after. Tholme made a small gesture to the left while his head tilted to the right, Obi-Wan nodded and headed to the left, eyes scanning the room as he took a seat at the bar. The bar was a fair mix of traveler and local mixed together. It was fairly quiet, or at least as far as cantinas went, there was no live entertainment and the talk was contained to smaller groups drinking at tables, a few loners with their backs to the walls or hunched over their drinks at the bar.

Obi-Wan gestured to the bartender for a drink and leaned against the bar, letting his eyes sweep across the room. Tholme had already sat himself with a group of rougher looking individuals, was likely offering to buy them all a round of drinks on him in hopes of getting even the smallest hint of information from them.

The bartender pushed him his drink and Obi-Wan took it, giving the blue Twi'lek a grateful nod. He held the glass in his hand, looking down at it as he swirled the alcohol.

There were a few tables of interest in the room, one in particular had two Twi'leks, a Wookie, and a human. Wookies didn't normally make their way to Ryloth and there was sure to be an interesting story behind their presence here. 

He took a sip of his drink, but then put it down on the bar. There was a Twi'lek and a Mandalorian, at least if the armor was any indication, sitting at their own table. The Mandalorian wasn't drinking, still wearing their helmet, and the Twi'lek looked to be savoring his drink, deep in conversation.  
  
The third table of interest had a slightly larger group, with the alert eyes and worn appearance Obi-Wan had come to associate with smugglers. Their table was slightly more raucous, giving the appearance of drunkenness that would be more believable if they weren't darting alert glances to the most dangerous entities in the room. The Mandalorian, Tholme, and the Wookie appeared to have all made the list, if the number of glances they received was any indication. While Obi-Wan was grateful to have flown under the radar in this particular circumstance, it was another point in his mental category that perhaps he should consider growing a beard. He was fairly certain it would help him develop an atmosphere of gravitas.

His eyes flicked back to the Mandalorian and Twi'lek again. The Mandalorian's head tilted, and Obi-Wan was fairly certain that they had noticed Obi-Wan's attention. A sense of weight against his skin that Obi-Wan had long ago associated with eyes on him, though it was impossible to tell while the other was wearing his helmet. Most of the time Obi-Wan naturally felt a hint of a person in the Force, but the Mandalorian felt almost opaque, as though shielded in the Force and Obi-Wan found himself almost frozen as the other observed him.

The moment stretched on before the Mandalorian turned his attention back to his conversation partner. Obi-Wan let his eyes drift to the other two tables again, before picking his glass back up from the bar and moving towards the table.

He wasn't surprised when the Mandalorian tracked his approach, even less surprised that by the time he took one of the empty chairs at the table both of the occupants had stopped talking, eyes on him.

The Twi'lek looked irritated at his presence, leaning back in his seat one hand resting on the blaster sitting at his hip. "Presumptuous much? Scram."  
  
Obi-Wan blinked at him, tilting his head just a bit. "Presumption, desperation. Take your pick."

"Do I look like I care?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Not particularly, no."

The Mandalorian interrupted, his voice managing to convey his complete disinterest in the situation. "It's fine, Ruz. Let him tell us what he wants, so you can shut him down specifically. Some people don't know how to stay out of where they aren't wanted. Got to get real specific for them."

The Twi'lek, Ruz, sent the Mandalorian a narrow-eyed look, but then nodded. "What do you want?" The tone was blatantly aggressive and Obi-Wan had the sense that he was completely wasting his time. He considered the table of smugglers again, wondered if they would have been the better choice, but then mentally shrugged the thought away.

"I'm looking for information on the Glitteryll smuggling ring operating around here."

Ruz scoffed. "You don't think information is free, do you?"

"I figured there wasn't a need to bring up payment if you don't have any information to give me."

Ruz leaned forward, still radiating aggression. "Oh, I've got information. But my rate is triple for Jetii."

Obi-Wan didn't let his surprise show at the Mando'a term for Jedi, though he felt his heart sink. Almost undoubtedly True Mandalorians. There was almost no chance of them helping him. He wondered what had given him away. He was dressed more casually than normal, Tholme hadn't wanted to broadcast the presence of Jedi on Ryloth, not after what had happened to Aayla and Quinlan. "And what's your rate?"

Ruz snorted, "A credit more than whatever you can afford, Jetii." The Twi'lek was on the edge of his seat, body sharp with tension, obviously hoping that Obi-Wan would give him a reason to let that aggression out.

"Ruz." The word came out quietly, but Ruz sat back in his seat as though he'd been reprimanded, and the Mandalorian continued. "I think Ruz has made it clear that he has no interest in giving you any information."

Obi-Wan looked directly into the visor to where the man's eyes would be. "And you?"

"Who says I have information to share?"

"You haven't said that you don't." Obi-Wan said dryly.

The Mandalorian snorted, leaning back in his seat. "Fair. But I don't help Jetii." He turned back to Ruz, dismissing Obi-Wan. "You have some time to think over the offer, Ruz. But I'll need an answer soon."

Ruz made a face. "You know I prefer making informed decisions."

The Mandalorian shrugged and pushed his chair back to stand. "Don't we all? Sure you don't want to join me on this job?"

Ruz shook his head. "You know I don't take jobs where I live."

The Mandalorian nodded. "I'll be seeing you."

Obi-Wan didn't even completely realize what he'd planned before his hand reached out and touched the Mandalorian's arm, it wasn't a hold, not even a grab, but his hand felt heavy against the smooth armor. He felt more than saw Ruz reach for his blaster, could feel Tholme grow sharp and alert in the Force, his presence reaching out immediately to surround Obi-Wan's, ready to act in a moment. The Mandalorian's other hand shifted to rest threateningly on his blaster, and Obi-Wan imagined that he was moments away from inviting violence to his person, though he couldn’t even sense the man’s intent in the Force. "She's twelve." His voice was quiet. "She's twelve years old, and this was her first mission outside the Temple. She and her Master are missing; they've been missing for over a month. Please."

The Mandalorian didn't move, but Obi-Wan could feel the weight of the other's man consideration. "What's her name?"

"Aayla."

The Mandalorian didn't immediately react. When he finally spoke he was addressing Ruz again."Udesii, Ruz." Ruz hesitated a second, but the Mandalorian shifted his hand away from his blaster and gestured at the Twi'lek. After a moment Ruz settled back in his seat, sliding his blaster back into its holster. "And you can call off your partner." This was directed at Obi-Wan, though the Mandalorian sounded unconcerned.

Obi-Wan didn't look at Tholme but he let his own presence in the Force brush against Tholme's where it was hovering protectively around him. The Mandalorian shook his head and snorted. "Always the same with you, Jetii." He tilted his head towards Ruz. "You don't have to stay for this Ruz, though you're always welcome."

Ruz was eyeing Obi-Wan. "You sure?"

"This isn't anything I can't handle."

Ruz glanced behind them, probably looking at Tholme, and then back at them. Ruz's eyes landed on Obi-Wan's hand and with a lurch Obi-Wan realized his hand was still resting on the Mandalorian's arm. He jerked it back as smoothly as he could, placing it in his lap and lacing his fingers together in an attempt at nonchalance. There was a hint of amusement in the Force and it took Obi-Wan a moment to recognize it as coming from the Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian was watching Ruz, easily reading his deliberation. "Go home to your wife, Ruz."

Ruz hesitated but then nodded, standing up. There was a brief, silent exchange between the two True Mandalorians before the Twi'lek left, one last glare aimed at Obi-Wan as he went.

It was silent for a long moment. "What do you already know?"

Obi-Wan blinked, surprised at the question. The other man hadn't actually made any indication that he actually would share any of his information. In fact, Ruz had said he had information, but the Mandalorian hadn't indicated whether he did or not. Just that he didn't help Jedi. "Not much." He said slowly, considering the situation. "We know where the smuggling ring was located a month ago, before Quinlan and Aayla disappeared. But the ring has cleared out and no one we've spoken to knows what happened to Quinlan and Aayla. We believe that Quinlan, at least, is being kept drugged, and so we're assuming Aayla is being kept similarly."

"How do you know that?"

Here Obi-Wan paused, uneasy. The man had indicated to his friend that he was here on a job, and Obi-Wan was taking an educated guess that meant the man was working as a mercenary or a bounty hunter of some sort, and while it was unlikely that it had anything to do with either him and Tholme or Quinlan and Aayla, there was still a chance. Furthermore, he didn't know what this Mandalorian already knew about how the Force worked with Jedi, and given his clear disdain for them, Obi-Wan wasn't sure he wanted to give the man any more information.

The amusement was back and Obi-Wan was pretty sure that the man was silently laughing at him. "You can tell me what you know and how you know it and we can continue this conversation, or I can just leave now."

"You've yet to say that there'll be a reciprocation."

The man laughed out loud, and Obi-Wan was surprised to find that it was actually a pleasant sound. "Have I not?"

"No."

The man hummed, the humor in his voice cut off abruptly as he leaned forward, just the hint of a threat in his body language. "Tell me, is the chance that I'll help you find little Aayla worth the risk?"

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, but then sighed, gesturing towards Tholme with a barely noticeable wave of his hand. "He's Quinlan's former Master, the two of them never broke their Master-Padawan bond. The way the bond has become clouded is a good indication of mind-altering drug use."

"And yet they've been missing over a month. He must not care very much if it took him this long to try and find them."

Obi-Wan shrugged, trying to look unbothered at the accusation. "He was led to believe that things were under control, and even if he didn't quite believe it, the information on where Quinlan and Aayla had been sent wasn't widely known; it's a wide galaxy, better to wear down the people with the information he needs than to scour the entire galaxy looking for a hint."

"And you can't find your missing Jetii with your… Force." The last word came out with heavy disdain.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, he didn't exactly want to tell this man exactly how to hide a Jedi from other Jedi in the Force, but the man didn't sound like an idiot, he could probably put it together easily enough, if he didn't already know. "In better situations a bond could help with that. But Glitterstim messes with a Force user's connection to the Force. Glitteryll appears to have similar capabilities."

The man leaned back in his seat again, one hand tapping at the table rhythmically. "You're afraid of me."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure if the man was saying that he was afraid of the man in general, or if he was afraid of what the man might end up doing with this information. "Rightfully wary, perhaps."

"At least you're not an idiot. I had wondered."

Which was fair enough, Obi-Wan supposed.

"Do you have any information on Aayla?" Obi-Wan asked.

The heavy weight of the man's eyes was on him again and Obi-Wan met the gaze as well as he could with the other man's eyes hidden by his helmet. "No." The man shrugged. "I don't."

Obi-Wan repressed the desire to snap at the man, for wasting his time, for getting Obi-Wan's hopes up, for playing whatever ridiculous game the man was playing. "I see. I don't suppose you have any valuable information you're willing to share?" There was more than a hint of sharpness to his tone and he mentally berated himself at allowing himself to be riled. He was tired, and he had allowed himself to hope that this man would have a lead on where Aayla and Quinlan were.

The man stopped tapping the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "You seem very new to this. Either that or this is very personal to you."

"Is that a no?"

"I didn't say that."

"You also didn't say that it wasn't. You don't seem inclined to say much of anything."

"A month ago, the smuggling ring experienced a schism. It's one of the reasons everything was moved, so that the two opposing groups wouldn't be able to easily ruin each other. Now, is this personal or are you new?"

Obi-Wan froze, completely unprepared for the piece of information to be so casually given. "A schism?"

The other man hummed something that sounded like agreement. 

"And do you know where either of them have moved to?"

"I might."

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes again. "And would you tell me?"

"I might."

Obi-Wan glanced to where Tholme was sitting and the other man almost immediately met his eyes despite the fact that he appeared to be in the middle of a conversation with the man beside him.

"No." The sharpness of the word drew Obi-Wan's attention back to the Mandalorian sitting with him. "You want answers? You ask for them. Not your Jetii friend."

"Who's leading the rings?"

"You answer first."

Obi-Wan sighed, "Quinlan is a very dear friend, and I'm fond of Aayla, she's the closest thing my own Padawan has to a friend, right now. And that's before taking into account that they are both Jedi and that Aayla is twelve, which I should hope would be understandably distressing to me."

"Pol Secura is leading one of the rings, Asante Vos is leading the other."

It took Obi-Wan a few seconds to place the names but when he did Obi-Wan froze, then stood, disgusted with himself; Quinlan and Aayla were out there and he was listening to this man mock them as though they weren't in very real danger. It was obvious that he wouldn’t be able to trust anything the man said. “I admit, that was very well done. Though your sense of humor perhaps needs a bit of adjustment. But if you're going to persist with this, then I'll look elsewhere." The man knew something, that was obvious. But he was too busy playing games and Obi-Wan doubted he’d reveal anything real right now. Obi-Wan would have to use a different tactic.

He didn't even manage a step before the other man had somehow twisted his foot around the leg of Obi-Wan's chair, yanking it forward and into the back of Obi-Wan's knees, his other foot catching Obi-Wan's shin and pushing him back into the seat. Obi-Wan allowed himself to fall back into the seat, surprised. "Well, wasn't that an interesting reaction." The other man had the gall to sound amused. "Maybe you should actually take a drink. You apparently need it."

Obi-Wan glared at him and pointedly pushed his glass, that he up to this point had been ignoring, away from himself. "No, thank you."

"Suit yourself. Now if you would be so kind as to convince your friend to mind his own business."

"They are his Padawan and Grandpadawan, it is very much Tholme's business." Still he met Tholme's eyes and nodded for him to stay at his own table.

"I don't care."

Obi-Wan stared at the other man, trying to figure him out. The man had made it clear that he had no fondness for Jedi, had no desire to help them. And while he had appeared to be moved by Aayla's youth, Obi-Wan found himself doubting that the other man was so bothered by it that he would actually help. Which begged the question of why he was pretending to help. Though there was still a chance, however small, that he was actually helping.

"I didn't think you did." He pinched the bridge of his nose then decided to continue on the same track as before. "Do you actually know who is leading the rings?"

The other man tilted his head. "You think I'm lying?"

"I think it seems very farfetched that Aayla's uncle and Quinlan's mother happened to get together to create a smuggling ring that Aayla and Quinlan were then sent to unravel, only for them both to disappear and for Pol and Asante to decide to schism right after."

Not that he thought it out of character for either Pol or Asante. Quinlan had told him all about the terrible things Pol had done to Aayla before he and Tholme had rescued her. And in rare, quiet moments, he and Quinlan had talked about life before the Jedi. Obi-Wan only had hints of memories. Tall grass, a brother, strong hugs, and a warm voice that he thought might belong to his mother. Quinlan had been older when he joined the Jedi, old enough to have memories of his mother. Enough to know that she wasn't any sort of mother a person would want to have.

The Mandalorian didn't react but Obi-Wan thought it was possible he had actually managed to surprise the other man, if so he recovered quickly. "That explains your annoyance at least. You think I actually do have information about your missing Jedi and I was using that to taunt you?” The man snorted, shaking his head. “Farfetched as it may be, the scenario you described does appear to be what happened." He paused. "And it's probably the only reason your two Jetii aren't dead."

"Really, you think either of those two would be swayed by sentiment?" Doubtful.

The other man shrugged. "It happens to even the best of us."

Obi-Wan eyed the other man and the way he so easily lumped himself in with the likes of Pol and Asante. Not exactly encouraging. "Right." He rubbed at his temples, Force, he was a Jedi Knight, but he was hardly behaving like one. More like a Senior Padawan who couldn't control their emotions. He was better than this. "And do you know where I can find their smuggling bases?"

"I might."

This again. "And would you tell me?"

The other man didn't even attempt to hide his amusement. "I might."

"And is there anything I could do to convince you?"

The man didn't answer, apparently actually considering the question. "What's your name?"

Obi-Wan blinked, slightly surprised. But then, no he had never shared his name, how impolite. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan." The Mandalorian seemed to consider the name. "Stewjonian, right?"

Obi-Wan nodded, a little surprised and a little alarmed. "Yes. And your name?"

The other man didn't answer immediately. "Jaster." The word vibrated through the Force and Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. Of everything the other man had said, Obi-Wan wouldn't have expected this to be the lie he chose to tell.

But was he choosing an obvious lie to try and convince Obi-Wan that everything else he’d said was true? Or had he actually been telling the truth?

"Right.” He said dryly. “Is that what you want me to call you?"

Jaster, or whatever his real name was, laughed. "For now."

Obi-Wan sighed. “All right. Jaster.”

"Tell me, Obi-Wan. What made you choose me and Ruz?"

"The Force…”

Jaster shook his head. "I don't believe you."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Those smugglers you were eyeing? Two of them were part of Secura's group. Now, my guess, is that your Force would have led you to them. Two of those men your friend was speaking with? They aren't part of Vos's actual group, but they contract with her. Now I know that because Vos put out a bounty to send a message to Secura. No doubt Secura's men are going to inform Secura that there was a bounty hunter here tonight. You entered a little too late to see it, but I was just the right shade of friendly with Vos's group earlier. Friendly enough to make Secura's men nervous. Now tomorrow, if my bet is right, Secura is going to go to his favorite little work place where he has his favorite slaves and his hidden stash and he's going to make a run for it, or at least try to disappear for a while. Of course, Ruz could have given you this information, but he never would have."

Obi-Wan frowned, "And you…”

"Your Force is supposed to protect you, right?"

"Well, it doesn't quite…”

Jaster interrupted again. "Right?"

"Generally, yes."

"Then the last thing your Force would have done was send you to talk to me." And didn’t that line up with the hesitancy Obi-Wan felt in believing the other man.

It should have sounded like a threat, but it didn't feel like one, well, at least not completely. Still he stiffened. "I see."

Jaster snorted. "I doubt it. But that's beyond the point. Why me and Ruz?"

“Maybe I’m fond of Mandalorians.”

Jaster scoffed. “Try another one, Jetii.”

Obi-Wan looked at the bar, tried to remember what he'd been thinking as he stood there observing the room. “I… I don't know."

He felt it again, the weight of the other man's eyes on him. Not just looking at him, but seeing him. He had felt it then, too, when he'd been standing at the bar.

Jaster hummed, and Obi-Wan was grateful he had answered when he had, so his answer had been honest. Because suddenly he thought that a part of him had just maybe figured out what had pulled him here, and it was more than the fact that Obi-Wan was fond of Mandalorians and it wasn't something he was proud of.

Jaster shifted for a moment, and then there was the clatter of something hitting the table and Obi-Wan's eyes jerked to look, Jaster had tossed a few credits onto the table as payment. A piece of flimsiplast landed on top of them. "The flimsi's for you."

The other man stood and headed out of the bar and Obi-Wan reached for the flimsi.

There were two separate coordinates on the paper and Obi-Wan couldn't help but stare. There was no way to know for sure without going, but there was a whisper in the Force and a feeling beyond that that he couldn’t place, he was almost positive that these were accurate coordinates.

He glanced at Tholme who was still talking to a few men, though there weren't as many as before. And Obi-Wan had no doubt that the two who contracted with Asante Vos had already headed out. He glanced at the table where the smugglers had been, there were fewer of them as well and Obi-Wan had the feeling that Secura's men had left already.

Anyone who wouldn't want Obi-Wan to get the information he'd just been given had already disappeared before he'd been given it.

Obi-Wan stood swiftly, moving to the door. He felt Tholme reach out to him and he reached back, somewhat distracted as he moved to catch up to the Mandalorian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Translation:  
> Udesii-Calm, aka Ruz is being told to stand down.
> 
> Many thanks to Lys who helped make this chapter better!
> 
> In a comment in the last chapter someone asked if I would be writing Jango's POV, that will not be happening in this story, this story will consist solely of Obi-Wan and Palpatine's POVs. However, after some consideration I have been thinking of creating a story that has excerpts from other people's POVs (this would not be the same as Stone in a Dam, which has Jango's story side by side with Obi-Wan's in a continuous fashion, it would just be excerpts from a variety of people). If anyone has any specific part they would like to see from a specific character, let me know. No promises, but I'll definitely consider it.
> 
> Have a great January, people!


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